I might tell you that I get it
But I’m not so sure I follow
All these words you’re preaching
Fill you up with hot air
But your heart is hollow.
Prophesizing pearly gates, eternal love;
Just place your faith into the plate.
Church loves you more when you’re part of the collection.
For Heaven’s sake.
You mean to tell me there’s one faith?
That’s more right than the others?
What about them? Send them to the slaughter?
Master Race controls the pace.
One way to pray for all you’re after.
One supreme ruler and master.
But what about my freedom?
Is it free will or am I waiting for my Jesse?
Or isn’t his name Jesus?
Wasn’t he just a guy who believed that he was God?
Met a guy like that last week,
Hanging by the highway
Burning up in the Sun.
Is he who I should worship?
He said that he’s a vet.
Should I owe him for his service?
I’d rather sit through his than to sit through one more of your sermons.
I might tell you that I get it
If you could hit the undo button you would see how many times I’ve gotten to the end of this story and failed. This is the fifth re-write and my problem is the same. I’m trying to make a comparison between eating habits and how we should be just as diligent about what we’re stuffing into our brains as much as we are about what we’re shoving down our throats…without saying it that way. Fuck it. This is the first time it hasn’t sounded like some sort of journey through fad diets and workouts. It’ll do.
Stop for a moment and think about how much you constantly think about your physical health. Do you count calories? Do you feel shitty for eating that bag of chips? Do you skip out on some of your favorite desserts because you NEED to lose five pounds? Do you work out at the gym for hours upon hours to keep the weight off? To keep that junk food diet? Or are you like me and do you know you are constantly putting GMO’s and chemicals and gluten in your body and couldn’t care less? Because let’s face it, the shit that’s the worst for you is the shit that tastes the best. Now I’m no Adonis and I don’t spend hours at the gym. I don’t eat healthy per se, but what I do is I watch what I eat. I watch it go in my mouth and down my throat and into my stomach. Sometimes it’s fruit. Sometimes it’s a half pan of cinnamon rolls. But I know that every time I choose that fruit over that pan, I’m helping my body; if not by simply cutting some of it out. I love it when people say they can’t work out because they can only work out once a week, or twice a week, or only for thirty minutes, or because they can only work out after work or right when they wake up. I used to do that too. But putting on my sneakers to run around the block, even if it’s for just 15 minutes, it’s 15 minutes of doing something healthy. And if you pay attention, you notice your body starts to change.
Say you make a habit of eating McDonald’s on your way to work in the morning, grab two bacon egg and cheese biscuit sandwiches, hash browns, and a coke (because you need the caffeine in the morning) and you do that every day, if you just stop yourself from doing that once a week, that becomes 4 times a month, and your body responds. Maybe you can go that whole morning without the stomach ache you always seem to get that lands you in the shitter trying to keep your co-workers from hearing the mess you’re making. Maybe you kind of like that and decide two days and maybe you stop getting soda and you switch to orange juice.
Little changes. Little by little. That’s all it takes and one day you wake up to push-ups, sit-ups and pull-ups before work and yogurt. Not me. I wake up to coffee and a bowl and showing up to work 15 minutes late. But sometimes.
You see how this was sounding like a health article? It’s time to get to my point. We spend so much time worrying about our physical appearance, about what we’re stuffing down our throats but pay no mind to what we’re constantly feeding our brains. It was easy for me to see how eating like shit changed me. I went from six pack to pony keg and have since fluctuated 15 pounds from my “healthy” weight and when I feel bogged down and heavy. Is it because I can see the adverse effect my food is having on me that it’s easier to do something about it or is it because other people can see too? When I say to you picture a person sitting at a McDonald’s, you have someone in mind. If I say to you, imagine that person is sitting with two Big Macs, a super-sized fry, a chicken sandwich, an extra-large cola, and a frostie. And shitloads of ketchup. How many people didn’t imagine someone that’s overweight? If I were to ask you to picture someone sitting in front of a computer, it could be anyone in the world. If it were to tell you that person is watching videos about conspiracies and watching people dying AND watching video clips of Will Ferrel’s Best of SNL and MSNBC. Then that person checks their facebook. Then their twitter. Then that person checks their email and then goes to theChive. After a while they get on ESPN and finish off by watching a couple mash-up videos of the 100 top Vines and Snapchats. Do you think everyone’s person looks the same?
That was me a few months ago. Dammit, I shouldn’t lie. That was me a month ago. And maybe a day last week ago. But I was going through this period of time where I was hating pretty much everything around me. I felt humanity had finally taken its last step into chaos and that the world was becoming evil and that my neighbor wanted to steal my stuff. I had this overwhelming feeling that things all around the world were bad and could only get worse. I was watching the news and started feeling like my city was unsafe. But it wasn’t the city that I knew. The city I knew was going out and having fun with my friends. It was going to shows with my girlfriend. It was walking around at night pondering the universe on boomers and it was during that walk that I realized just how much all the shit I was feeding my brain was fucking with me.
It’s not like I don’t know there are bad things happening. I know about Gaza and the girls who disappeared. I know about the planes being shot down and the ones that we can’t find. I know about the market bubble we’re just waiting to see crash and that there are a shitload of illegal kids crossing the border but what good does it do me to just keep reading about it? Even worse, why do I always read the goddamned comment sections knowing damn well within the first two I’ll see some jerk-off comments that’ll make me want to hate everyone who thumbs upped. I could just blog and re-blog about all the shitty stuff going on around the world but what good does it do you? Being informed is one thing. Being up to your eyeballs in shit that brings you down is something else. I haven’t watched the news in weeks. I hate my city a lot less. I’ve stopped reading my friends’ rants on Facebook, going as far as blocking them from my feeds. I hate them a lot less. I stopped watching the videos of people dying in freak accidents and watching murders caught on tape and guess fucking what? That bubble that was about to burst might have a lot more soap than I expected.
It’s not as easy to catch, but just like your body reacts to what you put into it, your mind does too. The symptoms may not be as noticeable but they’re there. You just have to pay attention and be mindful of what you’re stuffing your mind full of.