Enlightenment.

I don't like Corporate Church; it seems more like a business than a community based on love and accountability.

Someone told me recently that he was more honest and outgoing during his Alcoholics Anonymous meetings than he had ever been during Church. This struck me as incredibly odd at first, but after a moment of thought, it made sense.

I decided, in all my wonderful haste to conclude very dense topics, that Church was fake. It was a place that people went for the comfort of having a place to call "Sanctuary." A place that when they enter, a divinity resides over them that makes all of their problems go away in an instant.

I decided that the people who went to Church for this one and only attribute were assholes, and moved on with my day.

A few weeks later I got a menial job offer at a local church. They needed a section tenor leader and were going to pay pretty well for the position, demanding only three hours throughout the entire week. I started two weeks ago and have been changed in some very important ways.

When I first entered the room full of forty-plus singers, I thought to myself, "Damn it. What did I get myself into? These people look infuriatingly old. *Sigh* Whatever, it's only an hour and a half Clay, only an hour an..." My thoughts were cut off by a swarm of high pitched "Hello!" sounds from Grandma A and B, Great Grandpa C and his son that was still old enough to be my grandpa. In the midst of me deciding whether or not killing myself was a viable option, I actually came to my senses when I noticed something: These people wanted to be here.

Call me crazy, but I didn't ever think about things like that. Church has always been a burden for everyone I talk to. When you ask, "What's up tonight?" people will answer, "Church..." This always made me laugh inside, wishing I could scream, "I don't go, bitches!"

But these people that welcomed me into their shitty choir were pumped as hell to sing. This reduced my apprehension and I actually learned more in that hour and a half than I could have ever imagined. I will never forget my initial reaction when I looked down and saw the next song on our list, "Thy Word" by Michael W. Smith.

When all the older women in the choir saw this, they obviously had orgasmic reactions to the very thought of Michael. I, however, imagined shoving a pencil through his throat so he wouldn't be able to plague my ears any longer.

I hate this song people, I mean I really hate it. If I were allowed to burn and destroy all traces of any song that ever existed, I would embrace Sonseed(Look at 1:10, I almost pissed when I saw her) and kill this one instead. When we started singing it, however, I actually grew up a little bit. The people around me weren't pumped because Michael wrote this song, they were pumped because of what the song had to say.

Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.

It is a shame that those words hold a cliche feeling for most people. Those words are powerful as hell when you apply them to your life, and that is exactly what the people sitting around me were doing. It was sincerely one of the most beautiful songs I had ever heard to this day, and I doubt many others will top it.

Passion that can be found and embraced through a song that I have hated my entire life is an amazing thing. I just never took the time to look past my childish hatred of such a beautiful idea. This is how I feel about Church now.

While I don't exactly like the idea of Corporate Church, there can be enough beauty in its people that make it worthwhile. It just goes back to the idea of being there for God and not for yourself.

I have concluded that I'll never be satisfied when it comes to Church because I'll never fully know how I feel about it. I know that as of today, I have a wonderful group of oldies that love God and want me to sing about it with them every Sunday. I'm going to enjoy this a lot.

I've already learned more than I thought possible.

Extrapolation.

There are moments in a persons life that alter the way they perceive things for the rest of time, should they allow it. I have been enlightened tonight and have overcome my silly conjecture when dealing with the voting of a president.

I was sitting in my room four years ago while watching the 2004 United States Presidential Election, and when it ended I was fuming. George W. Bush, whom I have no opinion about, won the seat in office without the support of the general population victory.

This was bullshit to me.

We live in a country that speaks of freedom and power through actions and beliefs, yet a man can defy the majority of the very people that he is representing by becoming their president. This is still a ludicrous idea to me, and it still gets me going. Don't get me wrong, republican fanboys, because I could care less about George W. being in office instead of Kerry or Gore; thus far in my life I have not witnessed a worthy person to take up the challenge of President. I am in no way judging this in an elitist fashion, I simply don't know how to merit the position of Presidency to a person I only know through media exposure; I don't feel as if I can represent an opinion without the bias of what I've been told by others. Due to this, then, anyone can take up office and have a fair shot at being successful. This rarely happens, considering it is an attempt to appease over three hundred million people -- an impossible task to say the least. It all ends up resulting in people being annoyed with the current office position, needing reconciliation with political balance, and yearning for an election. That is when my conjecture occurred, up until today.

I had a conversation with one of the most well-spoken individuals I know. He enjoys intellectual stimulation far more than any female anatomical offering, and truly enjoys enlightenment. This means two things: We are great friends, and we clash quite often. Nine times out of then, the clashing is in good taste and is handled with respect. If anyone knows me well, however, it is easy to understand how the discussions can quickly turn into aggravating arguments.

Tonight we had a conversation that started out light, but got heavier by the second. Here is my best reiteration I can come up with:

Me: Have you seen that new satirical video that Jessica Alba made? She is trying to provoke election awareness, encouraging people to vote.
Mike: Yeah, it's funny.
Me: I don't know why they are trying so hard, voting is a waste anyway. It's not like your vote matters, it's all determined by the electoral college.
Mike: That's...wow that's an ignorant statement.
Me: Four years ago, our President was elected by the EC when the general public voted against him. Tell me how anyone's vote counted that year?

That is a shortened version of what happened, and we both got pretty annoyed. In retrospect, I agree with both of us. I was so pissed off about the system failing one time in my entire life that I discarded it as useless.

This is ignorance.

The system works for the most part because of how the electoral college functions. Out of forty-four (lol @ me if that number is wrong) elections, only four of them have had the outcome of the EC disagreeing with the general population. That's a low number, and one that shouldn't be a determining factor of whether or not the system is broken.

I honestly think that had I not taken part in the conversation tonight, I might have held the grudge against our government my entire life. This weirds me out in more ways than one.

What if I have other grudges I need to just let go? Destroy?

It's a question I'll be asking from now on. I will try to make my stance be a bit less abrasive and firm, and allow for change and growth instead. If I want to study philosophy, I better start on that one right away.

Interesting how just a few minutes of arguing can enlighten you in ways you never imagined.

I love thinking.

Me = Funny

I don't know if anybody that comes here (if anyone even does) has noticed the very Emo-tastic headline I have written for my blog, but I just read it and man do I sound like a bitch.

I figured I could take a moment to possibly refine the headline in a way that makes it more enlightening than depressing.

I have this theoretical explanation of how reflection works. I have recently become a bit obsessed with the idea, which has resulted in me writing many poems and a song stemming from it. The idea is simple: When you look into a mirror, do you see reflection or defiance?

It sounds silly on paper, I understand that, but the weight of the question holds many challenges. People tend to see what they are only willing to see, and a mirror is a perfect illustration of that idea. A mirror doesn't show anything except for a representation of how the world sees you, in a minimalistic way. The mirror doesn't reproduce your inner thoughts, your personality, your hatred or anger, your love or compassion. It simply lets you know what you, as a being of existence, look like.

At this point some people might say, "Well no shit Clay," but I don't think everyone really views it as such. For example: When you see yourself in a mirror you will most likely do one of two things: Be happy about what you see or critique what you see. If you notice a hair out of place or a pimple hindering the smooth nature of your skin, you may start to dislike yourself for it. You may even notice the ten pounds you've gained in the past month or two. Perhaps you start making a mental checklist of your inadequacies that need to change in order for you to be happy with yourself.

If you have never done this then go throw a "You!" party, because you're an exception. It is natural for us to desire something better for ourselves. In our society today where the media portrays beauty as something of a necessity, it can make the average person feel far more than just inferior, it can make them feel somewhat vacuous. If this is what you're seeing when you look in the mirror, I call it Defiance, not Reflection.

I call it this because of what the term means: "To offer resistance." You're resisting who you are, refusing to accept it without altering and perfecting its being. Nothing is satisfying as long as there is more to change, more to fix, more to advance. If this is what you do everyday, stop. Don't consistently look for ways to improve your image, consistently look for ways to love what your image can say to others; I know plenty of overweight people that carry themselves in a very powerful manner, you don't need to be skinny to have a demanding presence.

It all comes down to the idea of Reflection or Defiance then. When you look into a mirror, what do you see?

"A mirror reflects the physical appearance as we appear to the world. Break that mirror into pieces, hold it up and look at yourself. A little more accurate, isn't it? That's how I feel anyway."

That is my headline, and it portrays what this blog has been saying. A broken mirror will show an imperfect you, someone that comes with all sorts of scars and baggage. But this reflection is much more accurate than the one that you see from a perfectly flat representation.

My Clothing Style (This is Going to Be Good)

I realized something yesterday: I'm the laziest person I have ever known when it comes to clothing. I have added to my wardrobe maybe a dozen items in almost four years. This stems from the fact that I don't exactly shop for clothes. I fail to shop out of two basic necessities: I don't have the money to spare, and any money I could spare is always -- always, people -- spent wisely on a video game. This results in me relying on various circumstances to increase the growth of my clothing options: Free t-shirt giveaways, Salvation Army $1 sales, and charitable girlfriends. This has gotten me pretty far, surprisingly enough, but only because I have been problem free when discussing the following topic: Fatness.

I am fatter now than I've ever been before. I weigh over 180. This scares the shit out of me, considering I normally hover around the 170 range. The problematic implications of said weight gain directly affect what I can and cannot wear; I am almost out of jeans because of this. What should I do?

Lose weight, obviously. But the residing problem isn't inherently existing in my weight. You see, somewhere along the line when God was shaping my person, he decided to royally screw with my existence by giving me nipples that protrude through the thickest of clothing. They cannot be missed when talking to me, so let me get this out of the way.

*Pauses for a moment while you stare in awe*

Okay, now that your disgusting nipple-lust has been fulfilled, what does this mean? It means I can't shop at places like Hollister, Abercrombie, American Eagle, Express, Banana Republic, or any other inherently narcissistic establishment like that. I have to settle for button up shirts that are just a tad big on me, to make room for my nipples. Awesome, this leaves t-shirts out of the question. Great, this means "wife beater" translates into "You're such a little bitch dude, look at those." Fantastic, this means swimming is more of a convention for those around me, as they just glare at the phenomenon in front of them.

But this all ends up being fine when I just simply come to the only conclusion that matters: Who gives a shit?

I have huge nipples, so what. Because of this recent enlightenment, I have been wearing nothing but t shirts lately. I fail to adhere to the rules my nipples try to enforce, and this results in me becoming even lazier. Not only do I have an excuse to not buy expensive clothing, I have decided that simple, cheap clothing will do just fine. I take this a step further by refining the definition of "cheap" and turning it into "free."

Maybe I can explain in a more concise manner with the following statement: If you're unable to look flattering in any type of clothing, why spend money on anything other than what you need?

Yeah, I don't either.

But I have come to a conclusion that forces me to change my lazy ways.

I need some more clothes.

I hate shopping though; I just don't like putting stuff on and putting it back and then walking across the store to find something else to try on that I'm only going to put back and follow it up with a trip to another store two miles away just to grab something that I try on just to then put it...see? It sucks doesn't it? Even reading about this garbage makes you want to scream.

I suppose I will need to suck it up though. I really need clothes badly. If you have any suggestions, throw them out because I'll eat em up. I'm no fashion designer, but I can listen to people talk about fashion (that statement is a complete fabrication and in no way represents any sort of attribute that can be applied to my person. I don't know why this blog even exists and why you're reading it. lol @ you).