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| not conservative enough for the conservatives.
not liberal enough for the liberals.
not christian enough for the christians.
not worldly enough for the world.
not artistic enough for the artistic.
not wealthy enough for the rich.
not ethnic enough for the culture.
not stable enough to live.
not stationary enough to own.
nomadic.
How does one say they're happy?
How does one say they need help?
How does one meet somebody?
How does one hide?
How does one become great?
How does one feel?
stoic.
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| Knowledge is a curse.
Understanding a statement takes a coordination of the mind with the reason of purpose, logic, intention, and the every day experience of oneself as an individual. But without the knowledge of proper tongues, preception of society within your culture, and anything else that has to do with relating to others, and you are nullified. All you are is a clanging cymbal of discorse and corruption. Causes for any collapse, a building, an essay, a society; its cause is knowledge, or the lack thereof.
To the upstanding social environment now called (insert location), it is much more acceptable to have the smarts to carry on your daily life and not the knowledge of anything but the veil infront of you. One that you can touch of your palm and hand, being attached to a hinged joint, which rounds at the shoulder. All things working in motion.
So what of love? This is the baffling part. What can love be, but defined with the mind, and the space between your head you've never seen. Now, be it this, could you ever have love without knowledge? Even love for others without knowledge? Or even helping others love without knowledge? Stupified love? Love, hoping for a brightly shining chance to gleam in defiance in the face of knowledge? It seems absurd.
As if the church goer could even be the most enlightened person on the planet. It is probably accurate that most people would say that too is absurd. For he is as a fool, only imagining. The most foolish are they who are encircled in knowledge and truth but choose not to reach, the source which they can access widely, extraordinary, and untapped subjects with ease. From them to the rounded shoulder, to the hinge, down the shaft to the extended fingers, and back into the space between his eyes, into fundamental foods (all things working in motion). So easily grasped, and yet so defiantly resisted.
To myself I can only ask two things: One, how exactly does a man live with knowledge? Always over and over, I'm told of knowledge only bring pain; painful in protection, sanitation, and the leaving usless only thoughts, vanity of vanities, and therefore somewhat useless in the common mindset. And secondly, how exactly would one, as a banner for the words of Truth, only turn his head to knowledge? As he claims the truth will set him/you free? He becomes void. For only the working knowledge of the truth releases in the freedom that anyone could ever know. Yet not a soul seems to care. All anyone wants to do is "love", but where is there love without knowledge? | | |
| Two questions and a quote.
1. If honesty is the unrelenting truth; where the consequences must be taken to correct wrongs having been done. Am I truly an honest person? Not merely tricking others into my viewpoints.
2. Showing Christ to the world requires a difference. Perhaps an individuality, and a way to endure to the toughest scrutiny, the careful examination of my manhood in the true sense and a search for truth. There in lies the difference. Am I truly different?
"We tell people the world is vain; let our lives manifest that it is so. We tell them that our home is above and that all these things are transitory. Does our dwelling look like it? O to live consistent lives!" -James Hudson Taylor | | |
| To clarify, I have not full decided on any college yet. My pastor and I had met, and perhaps it was a misconception as to what I had said. I mean I hardly make sense to myself sometimes. I don't expect another to fully grasp everything I say. But no, I am not fully set on coming back to the college, for many reasons, I straddle that fence, still thinking about my next move. And honestly, BBC is pretty low in the list. In the mean time:
They who are in Boston,
There's a person there who is probably more shy than I, and has the warmest heart I've ever experienced. The willingness to love and be loved, as well as his hard working nature, beckons admiration. The strong silent type that all girls should fall for. As someone had said about him, "I'd rather have one [of him] over 100 [honor] students."
Another who, though older, we seemed more like partners and/or. I've probably learned more things, about scripture, from him than any other person. Dishing out the good with the bad; straight out. Perhaps not a watered-down natured in his body. A heart for writing (awesome quality, I'd have to say). A nack for competition, leadership, and will never pussy out, no matter what. A great example of Christ. "Potential is a cuss word."
The warmest, largest hearts, I've ever seen among the girls, even on this campus. A great dresser, but also a person to listen, unbridled by any bias, anguished by wrong, and blessed by the right. She ain't too bad looking either. Awesome taste in music. All others are imitators. "The best you can is good enough."
You're such a great and unexpected friend, such honesty and a misunderstood compassion. I had a huge crush on you I must say.
Someone who was there, a best friend. Greatly sober. We often bounce off each other, and we seem to do it well. We grew in practically the same way, and talk about going through a bunch of crap together. I'm his clone, as someone would say, others would say puppet. Eh. "I have an awesome present for you."
The only one I could have fika with. Awesome times, a hopeful future. Reliable friend, soft spoken. We we pretty much the fish out of water on the campus. I guess that helped us relate. "[I wish I knew swedish, then I'd have something great to say.]"
And lastly, and individual. You might not have the best hand dealt to you at the moment, but keep your head up. Purpose walks with your every step, and you're not afraid of your faults. The friendship that one hopes to have, and a strong arm for ignorance. Brandish who you are, your faults, your goals, your failures, your dreams high; open yourself to Christ and he'll pour into all the cracks and blemish that need repair. You are who you are, you've been created that way. "We're going to Rome!" ...Ummm
Have strength, godspeed, and I have love for all of you. | | |
| Many will come,
Seeking your name,
Handed by a kiss,
A kiss, none but your hand.
Yet soon,
The air plain,
They fade,
Cryptic shapely shade,
Inconsistently wave-er estranged.
Knowing not a miracle, They'd work as if God only'd natural.
But they'd tell stories of you,
As a princess.
The sword-shield mixture,
Fancy in texture, with cryptic metaphor,
Later,
Regards with difference
Your title differs
Princess? or bar-maid dame?
Who are you really?
To they, not known, even to they.
As to question,
The dwellings of their hearts,
The picking of their brains,
All cohorts, they inside their brains a mystery,
While your wound and spun... Always kept waiting.
All paths crooked, never intersect.
I'll be straight-forward.
Not a lie will encompass me.
I'll speak only truth,
And I'll speak these things I believe.
Living them in consistency.
And as for you,
I'll promise with words, I'll keep.
Will be honest.
I find it not a hard feat
To tell clear, the open truth.
For I'll commit, I'll be straight-forward.
I'll say love and mean love,
I'll speak Christ and mean Christ,
I'll smile and be happy,
I'll cry and mean lament.
Nothing will be cryptic about me. | | |
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