Safe and Useless

What really got to me in the song I mentioned in my previous entry was that it gave me a window into which I could see my own prosperity. I became painfully aware of my unawareness of my good fortune. Oddly, the words in a song were no longer describing my perceptions but those that others would have of me. Suddenly, the lyrics, “my best friend’s a doctor, how he has been blessed, drives a new Mercedes and always has the best” described my life but from someone else’s perspective. I felt soulless but carried along by some nurturing force that mercilessly relented from blessing me with what I truly deserved.

While Jeremy toiled, being robbed, threatened and humiliated, I fed my desires, albeit quietly but nonetheless without hesitation. I remember that I bought my first Mustang that same day Jeremy’s car was stolen and yet he shared my juvenile delight as I painted the streets that circled his small apartment with rubber and smoke. I also remember telling the salesperson that I desired a vehicle that was, “commensurate with my salary.” I had earned it.

The words of that song pierced me but I am not afraid as much as I am perplexed. Why me? I am surrounded by those whose financial needs are great but whose purposes are greater; yet, I sit comfortably on the sidelines in my designer trousers. But I’m not really comfortable; I just know that most people in my position would be and that gives me some type of indirect comfort. I feel as though I have lost touch with who I am or am supposed to be. I am the servant who buried his master’s treasure under a rock. It safe and utterly useless.