Today a friend of mine lost it in my nieghborhood. He got taken off the streets by the police... I hope I get to see the day when this will just be a bad memory or even better yet something to laugh about... Remeber that crazy day when...
Was it the size of the questions rolling through his mind?
Was it the need to be seen, heard, somehow noticed?
Was it the drugs that he had added to the mix?
Was it a cry for help deep within the soul?
Was it the deception of an evil spirit?
I saw a group of friends hanging together by the some steps. A bong set up ready to smoke... and the general uneasiness of those who are anticipating getting high when confronted with those who don't.
I invited everyone to the donut shop with us. They cleared out and followed a different direction... following the bong...
After hanging at the donut shop for a while...
Two of my friends, who I saw earlier, showed up and were headed to the local liquor store. I hoped they had come to join us. I called out and noticed that one of them seemed almost posessed by a spray can. He walked up to a parked van and spray painted a big bright orange "Why?" on the back of it. I tried to stop him and said', "Do you know what you are doing?" He said, "Yes, i know exactly what I am doing"....
He walked right into the liquor store, spray painted a name on the door and an F@#$^% on a sign, got a bottle of beer and tried to walk out of the store. I intervened and the owner fo the store got his bottle of beer back and while they left. I then helped the owner clean up the paint hoping that the police would not have to get involved. (I never know that WD-40 could clean up freshly painted spray paint). I did this to try to spare him from ending up in jail... but I had saved the beer bottle for the store owner, and failed to get the spray can.
I was shocked to see other cars marked with strange questions or tags... Why?, Really?, ___ Oner, an Anarchy sign,... etc.
When the police caught up with him his statements to them were not defiant but rather those of a soul trying to grasp at the last straws of reality: "It should not be like this... I have a right to exsist... We should all be family and love one another... Can I go home now or do I have to come with you... Ok let's go then... or let me go... then let's go then..."
The soul needs an anchor or it becomes lost. When family doesn't know how to help... Friends are not trying to help... and no one is going to acknowledge the deep scream for meaning, purpose, and identity...
Spray paint can make your neighbors hear you silently scream... until the police arrive to take you away.
If God anchors your soul... pray for us.
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