![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Friday evening I got a cryptic phone call announcing that I was dismissed from Providence College for Academic Inability, and today an equally cryptic letter to similar effect. It is, I suppose, a fitting end to the Jobian tale of my life since ending high school.
Losing friendships, living in a nightmare before living alone, reprimanded, hated, thought insane, forced away from exams and normalcy, sleepless, sick, very sick, actually insane, kept again from exams, and now, expelled.
There is an appalling clarity associated with suffering, a bizarre awreness of more that what is happening around you as you find the words "I never want to wake up" escape your lips. So here goes:
No matter what happens when I appear before the committee I know that whatever order I join, this fruit of the Sons of Dominic has proved that I do not belong among them. Their legalism and their administration and the lack of the compassion they so ably speak about from the pulpit means that I will not ever count myself among the Preachers. These men have cost their brotherhood a member, and perhaps the Church a minister.
They have, perhaps, also proved that Education, that Leviathanic institution sprung perverted and misborn from the womb of the Church's universities, is now so corrupt it is inimical to the Catholic faith. Compassion, mercy, love, acceptance, poverty of spirit, and respect for the gifts of the Spirit now have no place at PC or anywhere else in the barren, dying landscape of Academia. I'm done with the Ivory Tower.
I'm done trying to prove myself. It doesn't matter, and nobody will believe it.
I'm sick, I'm tired.
2007, you sucked. You swallowed. You spewed chunks.
Happy New Year.
Losing friendships, living in a nightmare before living alone, reprimanded, hated, thought insane, forced away from exams and normalcy, sleepless, sick, very sick, actually insane, kept again from exams, and now, expelled.
There is an appalling clarity associated with suffering, a bizarre awreness of more that what is happening around you as you find the words "I never want to wake up" escape your lips. So here goes:
No matter what happens when I appear before the committee I know that whatever order I join, this fruit of the Sons of Dominic has proved that I do not belong among them. Their legalism and their administration and the lack of the compassion they so ably speak about from the pulpit means that I will not ever count myself among the Preachers. These men have cost their brotherhood a member, and perhaps the Church a minister.
They have, perhaps, also proved that Education, that Leviathanic institution sprung perverted and misborn from the womb of the Church's universities, is now so corrupt it is inimical to the Catholic faith. Compassion, mercy, love, acceptance, poverty of spirit, and respect for the gifts of the Spirit now have no place at PC or anywhere else in the barren, dying landscape of Academia. I'm done with the Ivory Tower.
I'm done trying to prove myself. It doesn't matter, and nobody will believe it.
I'm sick, I'm tired.
2007, you sucked. You swallowed. You spewed chunks.
Happy New Year.
