A Splay in the Road

To fall in love, to die, to sleep perchance to dream. Did you know that as a result of The Fall that a woman's desire will be for her husband? I was listening to U2 the other day and Bono sang the following, "And a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle" if that is true, why do I keep leaping out of the water at every passing cyclist? This ancient, natural urge to marry and mother is threatening my young, adventurous urges. Maybe it was because of all the new mothers that I hung out with yesterday. What a simply beautiful life it would be to finally settle down...

But after I left the haze of immediate temptation I remembered the fabulous opportunities that lay before me. It is not my choice whether or not I will get into this rock band, so it isn't a matter of me simply deciding to do it. I will give it my best shot, though, and if the walls slam down in front of me then I will once again change direction. But in the meantime I feel I have come to a place where dozens of roads vein out before me. One of the signs reads, "Stay Put Rd." This road apparently leads to getting a second job where I am, saving up money for CNA licensing, possibly moving into the world of health care, and then it disappears into the fog of the future. I would like to assume that the skills I would gain as a beginner-nurse would serve God in the mission field that I would inevitably choose if rockstardom is not, in fact, my destiny.

Another sign reads, "Leap of Faith Ave." and I can't tell if that yellow diamond-shaped sign further down reads, "Not a Through Street" or "Icy" or "Falling Rock". I could handle the ice and the rocks because I can handle Rock N' Roll, but if the road ends in a giant brick wall I don't have the TNT to venture onward. Plus, if there is a wall then I can take the hint. But who wants to back track?

The Clash song is playing on the radio of my conscience, "Should I stay or should I go now?!?! Oh you've got to let me know!" I am using that song as a prayer. Dozens of roads have diverged in my wood. I always take the least traveled roads and they end in cliffs, canyons, and giant rock walls. Come to think of it, the roads that look the most traveled always have their own overgrown side roads. Then I manage rationalize taking those grassy, untread ones out of sick curiosity. So here I am, 25 years-old, creditless, homeless, skill-less, and overflowing with dreams and disappointments. What do I have to show for it? Oh, I can write one hell of an essay on my life! What use is that to the world except in the form of a song heard by millions? "And I still haven't found what I'm looking for..." A song that's already been written, go figure! Maybe I should stick to listening to music, rather than creating it...

I have seen so many deserted pathways and have collected priceless wisdoms and experiences. All that veering and climbing could have taught me two things: 1. Less-traveled roads are your area of expertise. Who will travel them if not you? One of these days the road will lead to the Land of Fruition. Never give up on these roads and soon you will find the back door to a very special place that few have discovered........Or 2. There is a reason why people don't take those roads. Because they are smarter than you! Do you see all those people passing you? They haven't stopped to waste time down those little side alleys where gypsies camp and waste time with themselves. Why do you insist on rebelling against your God-given reason? Is it your sick longing to be so different and so significant? Is that a gift or a hindrance to your ultimate goal in reaching Fruition?

I could be a great nurse in a foreign land. I could be an unsung hero whose praise comes from Heaven and not the world. I could be a sung and singing hero who recieves praise from Rolling Stone for Best New Artist. I could be the voice that you can buy with $15.99 or Ticketmaster. I could be the voice that sings to one dying orphan with AIDS who I will painfully miss. Is the rockstar road less traveled? Or is it crowded with egoists like myself waiting for the bouncer to usher us into the party. It may be a shorter road but I am seeing now that it is in fact paved. American youth! Chase your dreams! Chase them right into the spiral pit of reality television. Your dreams are nightmares in disguise. Jim Morrison was a sexy poet whose heart was vacant. He fell headlong into the pit and we long to follow him. But that won't happen to me! I will rise and change the world like Bono, like Madonna, like Paris Hilton, like the Pope! I will soar on mechanical wings until I hit my head on the underside of a cloud. The very same cloud that Jesus rides as He returns to claim His rightful Kingship...

Yes I have a musical gift. Many friends of mine will tell you. They would love to see me conquer the world of media filth with my learned wisdoms. But the battle is the Lord's and what use have I of the crowns of this world. I would rather have one of twisted thorns. This world is going to the vultures of the enemy. Death litters the streets of the holy land. But I step over their bodies and push forward past the starving fingers yelling, "It's for your own good that I must fight for fame! What other resources do I have but my musical genius?!" I yell this with a mouth that can kiss, I run on strong feet and reach with capable hands. I push with the vigor of youth and the fuel of a fortified convenience breakfast bar. Past the starving mouths of the sick who's cries come to me from sattelite feeds and glossy print magazines. Are these my neighbors because I see them on the racks in the supermarkets? I see them and turn away to grab the Vanity Fair with Brad Pitt on the cover. "...freedom looks like too many choices." Bono again.

I can love on a local level. I can sing to ears who are so critical with a voice that reaches dozens rather than millions. Yes, this is the sound of practical reality invading my technicolor dreamworld. The paint of my dreams is running as I spray it with reason. Is it reason or is it discouragement?