King

I was reading an interview with Lupe Fiasco (pop culture update: He's a music artist), and he was reflecting on his own hypocrisy in attempting to write socially conscious lyrics, all the while enjoying mainstream rap that is misogynistic and violent. We're all paradoxes. And though I suppose the real step is not only in admitting such but moving toward a resolution of the inner-conflict -- of deciding where you'll lay your eyes and heart. But I am often not brave enough, or rather too complacent, to take that step. Instead, it's thoughtful journal entries with degrading rap on the iPod. It's clinging to the conviction that money and power don't make people valuable, but knowing there's a bit of pride at the thought of securing that name-brand job.

The title is a reference to the album King, by T.I. Sometimes you feel like the king; sometimes self-confidence isn't an issue. Sometimes you smile at her just right, or you catch them watching you walk by. Or, you grab that microeconomics final by the neck and wring it silly, 'till it's blue in the face and begging for mercy. And you relent. Because you've won. The trick is in realizing that the rush doesn't make you better, any more deserving of the next breath -- it should only remind that you've got some Wonderful Creator, smiling in the background. I think He enjoys these things. Maybe there's room for a little swagger in your step, so long as it's accompanied by a wry smile. We're so strong and so fragile, all things contradictory. And for the ironic among us, this is one of life's most pleasant realities.

Here's a picture of my favorite place in recent memory. I go there fairly often, when the weather turns sour, or the morning sun glares too unforgivingly.