Talk breaks silence that ought to be maintained. Music breaks nothing but your mayonnaise, fatty-ass pride and the tokens of the material world. Laughter unlocks the doors you've been trying to open. And a smile can do anything your little desperate heart desires. Injustice here is injustice anywhere. And if you think you're clever then chances are pretty good that you can convince yourself that you are. Just when people call you out on your shit, don't knock them for it. Keep on inviting them to your parties even if they eat your entire cheese ball and leave with more Dr. Pepper than they brought. I don't know. But the tendency to despise all that does not reflect our own perfect image of the world is rampant. We got verdicts coming out of our ass everyday. We think it affects all of us. Maybe it does. May it doesn't. And the thoughts we pay homage to sometimes, not all the time, but sometimes ought to go to their rooms without supper. You can write your edicts on the bathroom mirrors. Call your mother when the neighborhood kids aren't playing nice. You can take your order back when Esmeralda forget to add cheese. You can curse your mother and her unwillingness to accept your membership in the Church of Satan. But what you've got at the end of the day is YOU. And maybe you are the best. Maybe the World would not be the same without you in it. And maybe everyone and everything needs to jump when you jump. But at the end of everyday, you still have to brush your own teeth. That is if you value your dental health. Maybe you don't. Maybe it is more important for you to sling your anger around the grocery store at odd hours, thrust your impatience at the Produce Clerk, or have them remake your latte. I, for one, find that it is more important to preach at myself. And welcome the insight of others in a world where 'correction is grievous unto him who forsaketh the Way, and he who hateth reproof shall die." If the Commander has an opinion of you, listens approvingly or disapprovingly to your input, if the walls of democracy do not hasten to your righteous judgment, maybe you should burn that motherfucker down. I doubt it. Maybe you are the best though. And maybe I'm the one who is fucked up. Maybe I'm not worthy to call myself a Christian. But I doubt it. A light, a small ember burns at the root everything. A common hymn resonates through out all of existence. Choose that. The anger, the rage, the discontent. If you start by doing work on your own salvation, on your own enlightenment, maybe you will find that your not the best. And maybe you will find that is okay. You just might drink that latte. But what do I know?
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