There is a single bulb burning its guts out next to me, the only light in a dark room, and there is a fly that is buzzing around and around this bulb, knocking into the lampshade and periodically resting to collect his bearings before smashing himself silly again. And I wonder sometimes if I am that fly.
When it is dark and quiet and sweaty like it gets after midnight in July in South Carolina, I sometimes lay awake in my bed and try to let the microscopic atoms surrounding me speak. And if I listen to them, on lonely nights like this, I am likely to hear that I am buzzing around and around light bulbs with no direction or purpose or reason.
It’s not that I hate myself or my life right now. In fact I am likely more comfortable with and aware of myself at this point in my life than I have ever been before. But I wonder sometimes if these areas of my life are worth being a part of. I wonder if this Christianity thing is worth it, and why we’ve all corrupted it so much. I wonder if I really do have any kind of talent at this architecture stuff or if I just used it all up in my first year and starting in a month everyone will find out I can’t really do it. I wonder why I am 25 and living with my parents. I wonder, to be honest, what in the world I am doing sleeping in a queen-size bed by myself, and should I sleep in the center of it, or off to one side, and why isn’t there anyone next to me. I wonder about this unbelievable screeching sound that just started inside the wall behind me. For God’s sake, it sounds like a tiny drill or something. I wonder why I never feel like I am able to write, I mean really write, anymore when I used to do it all the time (although let’s be honest, a lot of that was cheap freshman college student stuff, overwrought and melodramatic). I wonder why the sound in the wall just stopped all of a sudden. I wonder why people ever want to leave the sticky sweaty sex South, knowing that I will eventually. I wonder what it will be like to have kids. I wonder which country will win the most gold medals in the Olympics, and will the Redskins be good this year. And am I doing enough to help people in other countries (the answer to that one is always no). And is God real and am I real and are we real?
And am I this fly buzzing next to me, am I this insect making an unbelievable racket inside the wall?