I’m a hypocrite. There I said it.

I don’t want to be a hypocrite, but I can’t help it. There’s this little thing called “lack of time” that keeps letting me (and possibly you) down. What I mean by all this is that I haven’t written a legit blog (for the very same blog that I ask all of our contributors to commit to each week) in a very long time. I’ve made every excuse.

After Urban ReThink opens, I’ll do it. No, after our book release party, I’ll do it. After I go to the gym, maybe. After this phone call. After this email.  And now, I’m already planning cancellations of my blog writing before it even happens, like after this trip to St. Pete I booked because I need a vacation from all the blogs I haven’t written yet. Anyways, the urge to write is creeping up upon me and it’s you, the contributors of this blog, that are inspiring me.

Last night, I went to Tod Caviness’ Speak Easy at Will’s Pub and was pleased to see so many people willing to risk the health of their lungs for good prose. I was especially excited to unite with the Fragmentation family. Ryan Rivas, Gene Albamonte and Hunter Choate were all in attendance. I knew Ryan’s short about God and South Beach would be funny and great because I got to preview it beforehand. But what I didn’t see coming was Gene’s performance.

Below is Gene’s written Speak Easy contribution. I begged him to let me post it as my blog today. I can’t stop reading it over and over again. I can’t stop imagining him on the stage, reading, pointing, smiling. I’m jealous. I’m thankful. But most importantly I’m inspired. I’m gonna stop making excuses and I’m gonna start writing… right after I post this blog and read Gene’s short one more time.

HERE’S WHAT I BELIEVE
By Gene Albamonte

I don’t believe in God, the Father almighty, creator of Heaven and Earth. But I’ll tell you what I do believe in.

I believe in the human spirit, but not spirit like some ethereal thingy that dwells within the shell of our skin. I don’t believe our skin is a shell, but if it were a shell, I believe it would be a conch shell, because ‘conch’ is a funny word, and it’s funny how we are all going to die some day. No, I believe in the idea that we humans are all capable of doing more than we think. All of us. Every last one. Except for this guy I know, Tim. That guy’s an asshole.

I don’t believe Jesus Christ is the son of God, but I do believe in sliced bread. I believe in cinnamon, 2/3 cup of milk, 1 teaspoon of vanilla extract and 2 eggs. I believe I’m hungry for French toast.

I believe we know the enemy and it is us, which you’d think would be a good thing because who knows us better than us? But actually, it’s a bad thing. Because as it turns out, we don’t know ourselves very well at all. Or at least that’s what both my psychiatrists told me.

I believe all work and no play makes Johnny a dull boy, but, to be honest, I think Johnny was dull in the first place. Isn’t that why Mary-Beth left him? Sure, she said it was because she needed some time to herself, but that wasn’t it. I believe Mary-Beth learned that you can love someone and, at the same time, love someone else. Mary-Beth used to believe in soul mates—that there’s one special person just for each of us. Now she believes there are many special people for each of us and we’re left to choose which one we’ll stay with. She chose Johnny, then she chose to break his heart and now every time Johnny gets caught in the rain, he cries, because it reminds him of the time he and Mary-Beth were sticking Blackjack firecrackers in oranges and lighting the wicks and throwing them into the sky to watch the pulp rain down. They did that for ten minutes straight and then it started raining and they made a run for it. They had to stop every now and then to catch their breath, they were laughing so hard. They laughed and looked at each other and made promises with their eyes, and now she’s gone. Now she’s with Kevin, who I believe has gonnorhia.

I believe the children are our future. I believe we should teach them well. However, I don’t believe we should let them lead the way. They’re just kids, for Christ’s sake.

I believe in the power of cranberry juice.

I don’t believe in unity or the trinity, but maybe we can meet somewhere in the middle and call it bi-nity? Binity? Two nities, is what I’m trying to say.

I believe I’m a dog person. Not in the sense that I prefer dogs, but that I’m actually part human, part dog, specifically my right foot, which is a paw.

I believe it when I see it, so I believe nothing in pitch dark.

I don’t believe in God, but I believe in you… and… you. And you.

Whenever someone says, “How many times do I have to tell you?” I believe you should say “32” before they finish the rest of their sentence.

I don’t believe in the immaculate conception or the holy spirit or talking snakes or burning bushes. And I still don’t know if I believe in myself. I guess that all depends on you.