Post by mskied on Oct 28, 2019 9:21:22 GMT -6
The phlegm speckled monitor, a dusty graphite colored mirror, caked with my ether; the very blood of my consciousness, is covered in innumerous coughing fits as it stands erect in the light of my hazy room reminding me of how I relentlessly embrace and release all that I can digest as I huff on Tabaco and force my mind and body to seek enlightenment. This chasing is a righteous pursuit to find a voice that will reveal what we can comprehend of the plight of our selves and the structure of civilization; the lessons of the heart as we seek understanding of the mind on a journey to discover the soul.
My God! How I have struggled and fought to pursue your design, to know who and what you are, and to understand why we are, and who and how we are. I rise from my chair and embarrassingly dismiss the disordered state of my small, single room apartment. Where has my exuberance and youthful hope been lost and what have I squandered it on? This impossible quest to bring about some resolution to the plight of our species and planet. I remind myself that things are well in motion by those that suppose to know better than I, but can I be certain that all of this lies in good hands? From whence did this faith come, that all people are bound for a secure home after their trials on Earth? How could it be that mankind could delude themselves into thinking that we are governed by a concerned Deity that has witnessed our wandering over a wild and untamed mass of floating elements which leave us in ruin and despair for thousands of years until only recently when we have acquired running water and electricity? Where was this God when Man was sitting in a forested wood, vulnerable to hungry animals that, just as we need, wanted to devour our flesh to satisfy this hunger that is inborn in us due to the frailty of our bodily needs for nourishment?
My early life was spent engaging in celebrations and competitions, much of it dismissive of the structure of our culture, simply spent in pleasant pursuits of whatever I wanted to be involved with. I never gave much consideration to Law particularly, mostly because my ambition was not to belong to the establishment until I could prove to be worthy of joining it. How many others are like myself? Blindly believing that they are justified in their meandering, casually acting out on the simple life without worry of contributing to any great depth? Even those that claim to champion such a cause seem to be fallible to personal goals that thwart the common hope that we are all working united to bring about a better home for ourselves and our children. As a man that believed he could never raise a family, I do not feel as though I have the right to condemn the efforts of those that do, but even today as I sit in my dwelling, I hear my neighbors, parents to a small child, hollering and beating one another in front of her as they refuse to acknowledge her presence and the influence their actions will have on her developing mind. How much different then, from her watching this, then when they sit her in front of a television which promotes things that she cannot comprehend such as strength and beauty without knowing the effort it takes to become these things? How does this small child reach to what we claim to be good in a world that falls short in educating us on how to become it? Television is the most common channel which people of a poorer stature have access to learning about our society and I willfully express my doubts that these educated artists are living up to their responsibility for making the most of this medium.
There is an arrangement of plaques on my wall, objects that I purchased to illustrate to the Gods that govern me that I understand symbolism and can appreciate what they bring us. At the head of this diamond shaped assembly is a Chinese letter that symbolizes tranquility. Below this is an relief of the
Goddess Hestia, Greek patron of the home. In the center on either side are plaques of angels with instruments facing the center from either side. One is matted, and the other is glossy. I found these two angels together in a thrift store, and they appeared to be part of a set. It wasn’t until I brought them home that I noticed the difference of appearance. The left angel is the matted one, and as a student of the craft of painting I know that a matted coloring is non reflective and more tactile to the eye and touch. The left side of God in most systems is the side that would engage in the activities that Man seem to need but many want to avoid, like dangerous activities of discovery and war faring. The right angel is glossy, and the gloss of the right side of the Divine is the side that keeps the peace and brings us emotional unity. I assume that this angel is glossy because it softens the judgement of God when we engage in loving, kind and generous actions of mercy. This isnt to say that this is the favorite side of God, for certainly industry and innovation and daring are attributes that we most assuredly need to provide us with safety from the aforementioned animals in the forest that are prowling about out in the wilderness. Both sides are necessary to preserve our security, and if there is a lesson in my observations of the actions of life, it is to realize that even those that appear to be meaningless wanderers or dangerous fools still provide us with a motive and spirit that unites our society.
In the quiet of my apartment, my neighbors at rest for now, I turn a few degrees to see my large bed, a bed that has been used in ways that most beds are used, except this particular bed has seen more than its share of lust and despair. How many months in succession have I lay upon this mattress in grief, witnessing dreams and visions that I have fought so desperately to define? How many times have I welcomed a sexual encounter in the hopes of knowing love? And today as I write, I still cannot say that any of this bears the fruit that I seek. In this bed I have practiced many rites of passage from a varied spectrum of religious revelation, and still I have no comfort of knowing Mankind's final destination. I suspect that all of the ideas we have conjured in the conjecture revealed through thorough examination and conversation is only fantasy truth that a clever God will only allow us to believe until it is time for a new destination. And why would this be, this hopeless hope of finding an eternal home? Perhaps it is because this all powerful and knowing God has plans within plans to allow us to experience and experiment with all that He or She possesses. And so, as I sit upon this weary and worn mattress, I scold myself for accusing our God for not providing us with immediate salvation and technology to preserve us for eternity from the beginnings of time. God and Man must journey through this life with the same measure of patience, lest we fall victim to our passions and end ourselves prematurely.
My God! How I have struggled and fought to pursue your design, to know who and what you are, and to understand why we are, and who and how we are. I rise from my chair and embarrassingly dismiss the disordered state of my small, single room apartment. Where has my exuberance and youthful hope been lost and what have I squandered it on? This impossible quest to bring about some resolution to the plight of our species and planet. I remind myself that things are well in motion by those that suppose to know better than I, but can I be certain that all of this lies in good hands? From whence did this faith come, that all people are bound for a secure home after their trials on Earth? How could it be that mankind could delude themselves into thinking that we are governed by a concerned Deity that has witnessed our wandering over a wild and untamed mass of floating elements which leave us in ruin and despair for thousands of years until only recently when we have acquired running water and electricity? Where was this God when Man was sitting in a forested wood, vulnerable to hungry animals that, just as we need, wanted to devour our flesh to satisfy this hunger that is inborn in us due to the frailty of our bodily needs for nourishment?
My early life was spent engaging in celebrations and competitions, much of it dismissive of the structure of our culture, simply spent in pleasant pursuits of whatever I wanted to be involved with. I never gave much consideration to Law particularly, mostly because my ambition was not to belong to the establishment until I could prove to be worthy of joining it. How many others are like myself? Blindly believing that they are justified in their meandering, casually acting out on the simple life without worry of contributing to any great depth? Even those that claim to champion such a cause seem to be fallible to personal goals that thwart the common hope that we are all working united to bring about a better home for ourselves and our children. As a man that believed he could never raise a family, I do not feel as though I have the right to condemn the efforts of those that do, but even today as I sit in my dwelling, I hear my neighbors, parents to a small child, hollering and beating one another in front of her as they refuse to acknowledge her presence and the influence their actions will have on her developing mind. How much different then, from her watching this, then when they sit her in front of a television which promotes things that she cannot comprehend such as strength and beauty without knowing the effort it takes to become these things? How does this small child reach to what we claim to be good in a world that falls short in educating us on how to become it? Television is the most common channel which people of a poorer stature have access to learning about our society and I willfully express my doubts that these educated artists are living up to their responsibility for making the most of this medium.
There is an arrangement of plaques on my wall, objects that I purchased to illustrate to the Gods that govern me that I understand symbolism and can appreciate what they bring us. At the head of this diamond shaped assembly is a Chinese letter that symbolizes tranquility. Below this is an relief of the
Goddess Hestia, Greek patron of the home. In the center on either side are plaques of angels with instruments facing the center from either side. One is matted, and the other is glossy. I found these two angels together in a thrift store, and they appeared to be part of a set. It wasn’t until I brought them home that I noticed the difference of appearance. The left angel is the matted one, and as a student of the craft of painting I know that a matted coloring is non reflective and more tactile to the eye and touch. The left side of God in most systems is the side that would engage in the activities that Man seem to need but many want to avoid, like dangerous activities of discovery and war faring. The right angel is glossy, and the gloss of the right side of the Divine is the side that keeps the peace and brings us emotional unity. I assume that this angel is glossy because it softens the judgement of God when we engage in loving, kind and generous actions of mercy. This isnt to say that this is the favorite side of God, for certainly industry and innovation and daring are attributes that we most assuredly need to provide us with safety from the aforementioned animals in the forest that are prowling about out in the wilderness. Both sides are necessary to preserve our security, and if there is a lesson in my observations of the actions of life, it is to realize that even those that appear to be meaningless wanderers or dangerous fools still provide us with a motive and spirit that unites our society.
In the quiet of my apartment, my neighbors at rest for now, I turn a few degrees to see my large bed, a bed that has been used in ways that most beds are used, except this particular bed has seen more than its share of lust and despair. How many months in succession have I lay upon this mattress in grief, witnessing dreams and visions that I have fought so desperately to define? How many times have I welcomed a sexual encounter in the hopes of knowing love? And today as I write, I still cannot say that any of this bears the fruit that I seek. In this bed I have practiced many rites of passage from a varied spectrum of religious revelation, and still I have no comfort of knowing Mankind's final destination. I suspect that all of the ideas we have conjured in the conjecture revealed through thorough examination and conversation is only fantasy truth that a clever God will only allow us to believe until it is time for a new destination. And why would this be, this hopeless hope of finding an eternal home? Perhaps it is because this all powerful and knowing God has plans within plans to allow us to experience and experiment with all that He or She possesses. And so, as I sit upon this weary and worn mattress, I scold myself for accusing our God for not providing us with immediate salvation and technology to preserve us for eternity from the beginnings of time. God and Man must journey through this life with the same measure of patience, lest we fall victim to our passions and end ourselves prematurely.
