Confessional Signs: Day Three
Year: Unspecified
I’m not alone; I’m just failing to see the light, the truth. For every second I waste contemplating my own misery a less well off man falls towards the silenced depths of non existence. I wouldn’t say I was depressed as such but I’m certainly not content. Alas to be contented is to give up hope for something more, something undefined by our meagre grasp of reality, faith. To have faith is to trust without question, to love without regrets, to give without expecting to receive.
At least that’s my take on faith, many wiser and greater souls have come to the conclusion that faith is all but what we make it; religion is the enemy of God.
I would never say that my suffering is more important or greater than anyone else’s, although I oft wonder if it is. Pain is an overused word; I wake to the rhythmic pulsing of bitter lovers tearing at each others hearts, subverting each others will. I watch, not for sadistic pleasure, or out of perverted curiosity but I watch for porosity’s sake, shrouding myself in their fear, pretending I’m a solution.
Unfortunately I’ve never been one for answers. Young children often think of themselves as the centre of their own localised universe, destined for great things, destined for a silver lined existence out of harms reach. I’ve never had the luxury, life comes with needs but to deliberately surpass the basic amenities due to pride or out of a sense of self worth to my mind represents the greatest perversion of all.
The hour is late already man has grown weak, satisfied with his luxuriant ways, proud but never contemplative. As our poets, writers and philosophers become ever more self indulgent we lose another mouth piece for the truth just to gain yet another hypocrite. Conversational conformity and echoed laughter march hand in hand down the path to obscurity, It has always been better to suffer ridicule and scorn than to hide ones true thoughts from themselves, if they show you the cross, nail your own hands to the wood and cry out, not in shame but in joy, tell them God is with us, he lies in the hearts of men shamelessly coaxing the devil into greater deeds of mischief.
Divinity holds sway over our every move, however we need to realise that the divine and the mortal are purposely intertwined performing a dance so complex and reclusive, man alone will never hold the floor. Until we detach ourselves from our petty ways we’ll never come to a masterful realisation. This far we’ve always demonised what we don’t understand.
Year: Unspecified
I’m not alone; I’m just failing to see the light, the truth. For every second I waste contemplating my own misery a less well off man falls towards the silenced depths of non existence. I wouldn’t say I was depressed as such but I’m certainly not content. Alas to be contented is to give up hope for something more, something undefined by our meagre grasp of reality, faith. To have faith is to trust without question, to love without regrets, to give without expecting to receive.
At least that’s my take on faith, many wiser and greater souls have come to the conclusion that faith is all but what we make it; religion is the enemy of God.
I would never say that my suffering is more important or greater than anyone else’s, although I oft wonder if it is. Pain is an overused word; I wake to the rhythmic pulsing of bitter lovers tearing at each others hearts, subverting each others will. I watch, not for sadistic pleasure, or out of perverted curiosity but I watch for porosity’s sake, shrouding myself in their fear, pretending I’m a solution.
Unfortunately I’ve never been one for answers. Young children often think of themselves as the centre of their own localised universe, destined for great things, destined for a silver lined existence out of harms reach. I’ve never had the luxury, life comes with needs but to deliberately surpass the basic amenities due to pride or out of a sense of self worth to my mind represents the greatest perversion of all.
The hour is late already man has grown weak, satisfied with his luxuriant ways, proud but never contemplative. As our poets, writers and philosophers become ever more self indulgent we lose another mouth piece for the truth just to gain yet another hypocrite. Conversational conformity and echoed laughter march hand in hand down the path to obscurity, It has always been better to suffer ridicule and scorn than to hide ones true thoughts from themselves, if they show you the cross, nail your own hands to the wood and cry out, not in shame but in joy, tell them God is with us, he lies in the hearts of men shamelessly coaxing the devil into greater deeds of mischief.
Divinity holds sway over our every move, however we need to realise that the divine and the mortal are purposely intertwined performing a dance so complex and reclusive, man alone will never hold the floor. Until we detach ourselves from our petty ways we’ll never come to a masterful realisation. This far we’ve always demonised what we don’t understand.
in a while}......just enjoy watching Mankind.....there is so much wisdom to be learned here.
