I could very well be accused of being 100 percent negative and rueful, melancholy and perhaps a bit spiteful in that last post. And perhaps I can cop to bits and pieces of all of that.
I know that this blog can tend to throw one off a bit, because one day, I’m writing some allegedly deep, introspective piece about man’s fall from Eden. Another day, I’m pining for another chance to don an ape suit and throw my unsuspecting, fellow man into a tizzy.
Right after that, I’ve got nether-lout Satan showing up to distance himself from windswept, narcissistic crooners with marginally-verfiable talent. Then, half a day later, I’ve got some multi-dimensional CS lewis quote glimmering in the center.
Then, today, I simply find a flowery way to say “I’ve about had it with thug life, crack heads, and deluded young men that think I can hear the hip-hop soundtrack in their heads when they enter the room.”
Truth be told, there is nothing hypocritical about any of this. The Ecclesiastical itemizations will tell you “to everything there is a season.” I just happen to have seasonal climate changes on a daily basis sometimes.
And so do you. I just find it easier to admit to myself and others lately. And there is a great relief in “not being perfect.”
Master Of None 
I once asked my wife if she thought I was too cynical. She answered, and said, “No, I think you’re realistic and it can sound cynical at times.” Truth be told, I am both. I do recognize that uncut realism can appear as cynicism. I worked in crisis for two years, including with many youth. Crisis work never has an end. There is always another generation coming up. I came to the conclusion that some people are never going to get better. I’m talking about multi-generational dysfunction passed down, in many cases. Are they hurting? Yes. Can someone reach them? Probably not. Cynicism or realism? Very few people understand the world you work in, and the stories you could tell would be on the verge of unbelievable to many people. It’s sort of like an extended version of “Lord of the Flies” with no ending.
Anyway, I removed myself from crisis since I was becoming toxic to those around me. I couldn’t “fix” other people, but I could do something about myself.