Saturday, 19 July 2014

Ante Meridiem: Forever

It is nothing short of mesmerizing that the question mark looks just like a human ear - and yet, this is paradoxical because when you ask a question you do not know whether the consciousness in which your question dives into will respond with hearing or deafness, as you would if you were talking with a human you were well acquainted with - that is, unless the human you were well acquainted with obtained hearing or deafness without your knowledge of such. In my abode of questions, the disdain is penetrating.

The problem with questions is not the lack of answers. The problem with questions is that the lack of answers may last forever. Forever is the phantom's fathom and this phantom is the human's fate. At any rate, the idea that the phantom possesses is the human's fate. How is it that I am able to speak of forever when I have no experiential recalling of forever? My question is stupid because forever and recalling are unable to synthesize.

Your questions are not stupid. Well, what I mean to say is, the questions that you leave me with are not stupid. Am I coming any closer? Your ability to bury me in questions is brilliant. And in your brilliance, you inflict the type of pain that is often there even though I lose sight of it more often than I prefer. Will you always be there for me? No, you will not - reason being, always is synonymous with forever, and since forever is non-existent in this dimension, it would be pitiful for me to expect this of you.

But I do expect this of you. Why do I expect this of you? My only response is a dead end - not a dead end, but a seemingly dead end to me. By faith I trust that eternity is written on my heart, and with that eternity the hurt seems more preeminent, in certain circumstances, than the healing.

And what is the purpose of speaking with myself, anyway? It is such mediocrity and nonsense to create an illusion of the person who desires not to speak with me. Though, you did once desire to speak with me. And I know that this is not and could not be forever, but I still believe that it will and could be forever. It hurts to lose what once brought me victory.

Monday, 7 July 2014

Neon & Psyche

If this truly is the Kingdom of Heaven, then I can't remember entering through the doorway. If I did find that doorway, why did I not fall? The splendor of the Angels should have blinded me and caused me to stumble. And if I would have fallen, would I have found myself in Hell?

I don't believe that I saw any Angels, though I remember seeing some neon signs along the way. Neon signs are visual lassos minus the gunfights. Do not fear fleshly bullet wounds - but fear the violation of the psyche.

Angels aren't all that similar to neon signs. One carries you out of yourself and the other carries you into yourself.

Please don't tell me that the Kingdom of Heaven is here. Every image that I've interpreted as being "God" has not been God after all. If the Kingdom of Heaven is on Earth, why is God in all His fullness not on Earth?

Monday, 30 June 2014

The Connexion Between Man and God

God knows man in his fullness, though man does not know God in his fullness. Would this make the connexion between man and God problematic? I will break down this statement and question into three parts. That way, we can take a concise yet detailed look at everything that the statement and question have to offer.

Part One: God Knows Man in His Fullness
God has the full understanding of humans, not only humankind as a general species, but humans as individuals (Psalm 44:21). God knows humans better than they know their own selves. It doesn’t even matter if the humans decide to act in Godly ways or not (Hebrews 4:13). As the righteous Judge, he witnesses both the non-actions and actions of the humans. By non-actions I am referring to the heart, and by actions I am referring to the expressions of the heart. God sees both the heart and the expressions, whether they be of darkness or light (Ecclesiastes 12:14).

Part Two: Man Does Not Know God in His Fullness
Humans do not have the same understanding of God that God has of humans. The Bible, which I believe to be the Word of God, says that nobody has seen God (John 1:18). The Bible also says that God forms humans in the womb of their mothers (Psalm 139:13), knows the hairs on our heads (Luke 12:7), and so forth. Such verses show God as the creator. But what is the human? I suppose it would be easiest to say that the human is the creation.

Part Three: Would this make the connexion between man and God problematic?
Now, why would I suggest that the connexion between man and God could even possibly be problematic? I suggested this for one simple reason: these entities are not the same – creation and creator. It doesn't seem fair now, does it? There is God, and it is necessary that there is only one, who gets to know everything about the creation. But the creation does not and cannot have the knowledge that God has. How is it that the creation doesn't have that God-knowledge, especially when Adam and Eve ate from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil - more specifically, when they attempted to gain the knowledge that God has?

Sunday, 29 June 2014

Step / Stop

Step. This key never brings me what I want. Step. And although I never use a different key, I always expect the same outcome. Step. The outcome wouldn't be a problem if it were within the idea of what I had expected to come out. Step. The outcome should be the seed of my idea. Step. But why postulate when the answer is predestined to stray from such demands? Stop.

You cannot accuse me of writing verbatim. This is a practice of repetitious deception - but it is not writing word for word, at least, it is not re-writing word for word. And in my practice of repetitious deception while not re-writing word for word, I act out exactly what I did before. I may not write exactly the same entries, but the heart of the content remains unaltered.

I don't remember being in this place. The most dangerous of doors to open are the doors that close - and that's every door. And why should the doors be covered in blood when blood comes from the inside? The doors are the outsides which lead to the insides - the doors need our insides to let us inside. Just take my blood, and don't tell me that it might be forever. I can't seem to properly imagine anything that I'd want to last forever.

The less you think of me, the more I become stripped of myself. It's as if my very being can only exist if you choose to let me exist inside your mind. I acknowledge that I no longer exist inside your mind, though I have bad faith that I still do. Without the belief that I exist inside your mind, I feel as though I am missing. I am gone until you come to me, and when you come to me, I come back to myself. The waiting is making me wilted. How long will you let me wilt for?

A heart in its wholeness cannot be broken, unless it is given to only one.

Sunday, 15 June 2014

Boxcar Jumping

I really like jumping from boxcar to boxcar. It helps me to forget about the totality of the train. Ha, the futility of totality. Totality of what? All of your haughtiness and pride created from your assumed "completeness." It's absolutely hysterical to me. But I'm lying to myself, right? Oh my, I shouldn't be awake right now. The boxcars are passing moments, and the train is my life in general. I'll carefully study every boxcar I jump on top of until my eyes feel the scorn of investigation. I'll just repeat, and repeat, and repeat. And I'll believe that repetition is change, while metamorphosis is only metaphysical. How's that for being forlorn?

Sadly, the healers are the ones who hurt us. I suppose I brought the pain upon myself by thinking of humans as "healers." God is the healer, and I know that, but I still don't believe it. And I'm still waiting. Maybe the waiting will end once I believe that God is the healer? But is that likely at this point? I've made so many prayers to the Lord, and I've talked to both myself and others ... well, more than is necessary.

It's true that you reap what you sow. What a fool I was when I had the seeds in hand!

Friday, 13 June 2014

Vain Anticipation

I can't even pretend that consistency exists. What a hoax, a scam, a facade! Just a way to pretend that I'm blessing myself when I'm cursing myself in actuality. The very crevices of my consciousness wrote The Ethics of Communication a long time ago. I did not write on pages, but on my heart, mind, and soul. But despite my factual writings, nobody has seemed to have read them. And that's where the shipwreck takes place. I am a ship and your absence is the sand.

Yet sometimes I don't even desire consistency. After all, I am fond of ambiguity. I never want the existence of physical or supernatural objects to simply fit inside of test tubes. To desire such would be, in my estimation, sophomoric. Perhaps it's my lack of interest in consistency which stimulates my interest in entirety?

That being said, consistency and entirety are by no means opposites. Allow me to rephrase: it is my lack of interest in consistent partiality which stimulates my interest in entirety.

When I refer to entirety I am going beyond the physical wholeness of an object. I am asserting that an object which truly holds to entirety has the ability of not being diminished, no matter what circumstance comes upon it. The object is not only whole in the present moment but holds the ability of being whole for all of eternity.

Why would God write eternity on my heart when I am not whole?

Do you ever feel like you're being besmirched while waiting? Waiting seems to take me to places of lunacy. But really, waiting is harmless on its own. Waiting does not take me to places of lunacy. The ends in which I wait to come to fruition, the telos, are what take me to lunacy. I become so desperate for them. I keep on letting them hurt me because they once healed me. Will they heal me again?

So what is it that makes waiting so difficult? Why does it really matter if I'm being held back from the telos for a duration of time? True waiting cannot be eternal. Untrue waiting is just anticipation. I'm afraid that my waiting is vain anticipation.

Tuesday, 10 June 2014

A Bottle

I want to be a bottle.
And I want to be the liquid.
I want to be the bottle in your hands
because then you'd fill yourself with all of me.

I want to be broken.
And I want the shards to cut your hands.
I want to be the one who makes you cry
because then I'd know that I made you feel.

What happens when I become a bottle?
I begin to understand that I can't fill you.
And I begin to understand that I can't make you feel.
God, please don't let me be a bottle.