some say he was troubled.

So, one time there was this boy. He hated himself.
In this self-indulging, inner warring, and chaos of identity; He found that no one cared.
Simply because no one knew! You see, in this hate that he mirrored and reflected back and forth between a million memories. He realized that a by product of this problem was that the source, the reality was to be hidden. Deep in the shadows of a forgotten happiness; hidden far in the reckless confusion that plagued him now; hidden, so that the attention he seeks was only satisfied by his personal yearning of pathetic depression. At best all he was doing was fueling his own problems, thus perpetuating the catalysts for a paradox.
He is depressed. People don't care about him. (sarcasm)
He, in pseudo-joy goes about his day!
He is never approached by anyone, with "concern."
He wonders why??
There are so many reasons why people didn't know. They had no idea that this boy would have, if had the courage, took his own life. They had no idea that even though he wore a cross around his neck, he didn't think that Christ could save him. It was only a necklace to satisfy a subculture. No idea that he drank. There was a juxtaposition complex before the family and peers. A vibrant leader and trusted peer, or, a distant and petty leech sucking out the life around him.
Just like anyone, this boy has ups and downs.
But, this boy regards something very dear to him.Some call it: commitment.
To frivolity he may be committed; but, it's really not the case. It's more so a movement for release. Seeking to purge pain, find acceptance, relish in popularity. Whatever the case may be, it is something he'll remain committed to until someone, or something else takes its place or maybe, he finds a place to release the pain, find acceptance and relish in popularity some other way.
I love stories. I really, above all, enjoy true stories. People who go to church call them testimonies if they have a happy ending with God.
Sometimes, I wish churches didn't say the happy ending. I almost think, for the greater good in the perspective of the grander scheme of things we should. Tell the real stories. The raw stories. Not just the stories that benefit some sermon, or a story to get everyone that happy go lucky feel, but, a story of hurt and pain, and a story that doesn't have an ending yet.
Boy depression had many circumstances that played into his demise. Through the course of life, your going to know people that die, this little guy had known a couple of people to pass at a young age. He had a troubled past, childhood, upbringing. He held onto some to a couple of his most influential, not family, people for stability.
Then, they we're gone from his life.
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How would you tell your life if you had to retell it as if we're a story?
Not that you had an ending yet, but, would you like it where it got so far?
Eh, time will tell.
Boy depression had a significant and painful void in his life.
He knew something was "missing"
He knew that in some place in the deeps of him, his … "soul" some would say was troubled.
His mind would race. His thought rendered helpless to the relentless emptiness and the sad fact that all of his depression had no substance outside of himself, and circumstances that once haunted him are now in this thing called -- the past.
"Face it kid, ya got to move on!"
It is an astonishing quandary to me when people mindlessly ask: "How are you doing?"
It's usually in public, where they keep walking full speed. It's almost as if they could have snapped their finger and pointed at you in a car-salesman-snaz and said "I don't care about you!" In a very chipper and jovial voice, while walking briskly. Perhaps that would have been accurate?
People ask how we are doing, but, behind all the not really caring nonsense. They are really sometimes setting you up for a lie.
"How are you doing?!" (It's a rather ambiguous question.)
"Good!" (Vague and general response, yet, resulting in a lie.)
Sometimes people are actually doing well. But, typically, they're not. It's more of an "OK"; "I'll be just fine"
Boy depression had a real problem with this. People would ask him all the time how he was doing while passing civilities.
He always made it sound like he was doing just fine.
How are you doing? Now, how are you doing, really?
There comes a point when everything that you have bottled up explodes.
You have got to purge out all the self damning iniquities.
So many times people think that we're too far from God to be rescued.
It's almost cliché to use the "I'm too messed up," rhetoric.
1 John 3:19-21
This then is how we know that we belong to the truth, and we set our hearts at rest in His presence whenever our hearts condemn us. For God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything. Dear friends, if our hearts do not condemn us, we have confidence before God.
But, it comes down to how much stuff you have bottled up inside of you. How hard is that stuff making your heart? Sadly, your heart needs room to breathe, unfortunately, in times of trial, sin, and doubt we don't care. It's an apathy complex that takes our hearts and just beats them senseless.
How are you doing really? Find a friend and be naked with them. Not in a physical way, but, let them see you for what really going on. Let yourself know that God can see you too.
Yet, he loves you. If even you don't think He exists.
You don't have to believe he exists for Him to still be there.
Like boy depression. God to him was a far and distant fantasy.
A divine creator that could take my pain and trouble away?!
He thought it was all a wash. OH, yeah, at one point he did try to get into the whole God scene, but, it really had no effect on him. He was too involved with trying to get past each day usefully criticizing everything he seen. Or, so he thought.
He was a walker.
Boy De'pre loved to take long and lonely walks.
He was shoreline walking beside a river in his lovely city. He would walk and think and thinking lead to emotions and sometimes he would just cry.
Let it all out.
Didn't know why he cried sometimes. He just had to cry.
He would walk so far down this river that he would end up leaving the city and find himself locked away in a woods and thicket. Lost in thought, time had no traction, he then seen this old man.
Scared.
He seen this old man with cloths that came strait from the mix of white trash and rich hand me downs, dirty and tattered. His shorts were a bright blue fabric with stains all over them. His shirt didn't match at all. A gross green with the sleeves ripped and had a taunting reebok symbol.
He had some bent glasses that were thick and patterned blue.
His rivers of wrinkles screamed "oh to be young again"
Old man reebok finally notice Boy De'pre and was noticeably startled as well.
"whoa kid, how did you make ya way out this far"
"uh, actually, I was just walking by the river and ended up here."
"know how to get back?"
"go back the way I came beside the river?"
They talked guardedly for a couple of mins, but, eventually lightened up. Old man reebok even invited him to have some fish with him that he had just caught.
Didn't take long to figure out that Boy De'pre was intrigued by this old man.
Or for him to find out he was homeless.
How did he get that way?why?
Is he a criminal?
Sometimes in life, people have these "prophets" that come and may not necessary tell them a word form God. But, have a profound message and reason why they've intersected with your life.
He was no criminal, but, he had been to jail.
He was no drunk that failed at life.
He was no exile that cheaply ran from his problems.
He was no coward that ran from his family.
He was old.
He was a retired missionary.
Old man reebok was homeless because he had have money, however, he gave most of his money away. You see, this man left for Africa at a young age and stayed there his entire part of his youth and middle age. But, he wanted to be a missionary somewhere else.
At age 59 he left Africa because he left the mission field there was being more satisfied and wanted to go somewhere where he left that the mission field was greatly failing.
So, he went to Nashville.
In his missionary ideology he told himself he needed to meet them where they were. In this case, he just became homeless himself.
This was only a thing he was going to do for about 9 months before he moved into a house.
Boy dep're leaned all this up until 2am on that faithful night by a fire, in the middle of woods.
He concluded that this old man was insane….