Give me beauty, they want death.
I swear you'd be claustrophobic if you could comprehend your tunnel. If you would only wake yourself to your routine, smash the opaque glass and let the air rush in, replacing that recycled air.
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My curse, my salvation is that I know I can't stop looking. I won't stop looking. Because when I do, I'm you. I see how your eyes are closed. I know you. I know the feeling because I know myself and I know the struggle. The difference is I recognize it. I embrace it. I love it. But I admit to you, I did not teach myself.
It's like this: I know its not important for you to see. Why would it be? You wake up asleep and align your wheels on the same rusted track. No need to be conscious for this, you know the drill. Back and forth, nothing new, everyday, every mountain, every inch like the one before it. The repetition, you know it so well. You feel safe. You don't step outside to take a look, to question yourself, your surroundings, to make a change. Yet the empty comfort of monotony irks your soul and your soul screams, it screams because its trapped, bottled tight within you. But it does not wish to escape. No. It wants to function. It wants to feel, but can't because you won't. You don't allow it, because you're afraid of what it means to live. You're afraid of what you don't want to believe. What you can't believe. There is no order you shout! This life is relative! I live by my rules and I am free to make my own decisions based on MY judgment. This is my path. I am my own salvation.
And so you remain blind. You don't want to comprehend the chaos that surrounds us, because you can't explain it yourself. You try now and then, but you get stuck, you get fed up. Maybe you try to do something about it, but eventually you give up, you think, "I need to get back to my life." "What kind of world is this anyway?," you ask. This world that murders and hates and tolerates. It's too damn much to take in. And so, you sit back with your remote, because for you, it's enough to take note of the horrible cries, and then turn the channel. Numb.
But what is that...you hear it again, from deep down, you become annoyed. Why can't I ignore it! Your soul screams louder. Its sound is so damn familiar. Still, you know how to drown it out because this isn't the first time its asked for your help, and though its yell loses strength with each depressing episode, you find that each one always ends the same...and there's comfort in that. You grab for what you know: the drugs, the sex, the food; a gutter chalk full with self-abuse. You've quenched your thirst with the escape you craved, but in the morning you wake up cold and cotton mouthed. Alone. Again.
Ramblings for later expansion...
This is where you will stay, unless you break from your routine and unless you question yourself and realize that true freedom is self-control, that there is joy in suffering, and that there is judgment in your life after death. You will wake up when you submit yourself to the love of the Father and His guidance alone. You scoff at his laws, his commandments and his rules, but what you fail to see is that they are guidelines and they are absolute, they are not relative because truth is not relative. Thus neither is this life. It has order...and so you wonder about why the world is then in chaos, and I respond that the chaos is you, it's relativism’s deadly character to send us all in conflicting directions. We crash without traffic lights.
When you awake, remember that there is a war being fought. You are meant to be a soldier. It is a spiritual battle against the evil that has lulled us to sleep. The devil does not want us to open out eyes. He does not want us to feel, he does not want us to realize that we are heaven sent, that we are meant to be saints.
When we open our eyes we are amazed by the darkness, and drawn instinctively into the light.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you'd only give life instead of take it. Then maybe I wouldn't feel so sick over this, if when you took life you realized it wasn’t for you to take and that you’re lucky you have the ability to make….if you only knew what it was you were erasing.
Existence is precious.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My curse, my salvation is that I know I can't stop looking. I won't stop looking. Because when I do, I'm you. I see how your eyes are closed. I know you. I know the feeling because I know myself and I know the struggle. The difference is I recognize it. I embrace it. I love it. But I admit to you, I did not teach myself.
It's like this: I know its not important for you to see. Why would it be? You wake up asleep and align your wheels on the same rusted track. No need to be conscious for this, you know the drill. Back and forth, nothing new, everyday, every mountain, every inch like the one before it. The repetition, you know it so well. You feel safe. You don't step outside to take a look, to question yourself, your surroundings, to make a change. Yet the empty comfort of monotony irks your soul and your soul screams, it screams because its trapped, bottled tight within you. But it does not wish to escape. No. It wants to function. It wants to feel, but can't because you won't. You don't allow it, because you're afraid of what it means to live. You're afraid of what you don't want to believe. What you can't believe. There is no order you shout! This life is relative! I live by my rules and I am free to make my own decisions based on MY judgment. This is my path. I am my own salvation.
And so you remain blind. You don't want to comprehend the chaos that surrounds us, because you can't explain it yourself. You try now and then, but you get stuck, you get fed up. Maybe you try to do something about it, but eventually you give up, you think, "I need to get back to my life." "What kind of world is this anyway?," you ask. This world that murders and hates and tolerates. It's too damn much to take in. And so, you sit back with your remote, because for you, it's enough to take note of the horrible cries, and then turn the channel. Numb.
But what is that...you hear it again, from deep down, you become annoyed. Why can't I ignore it! Your soul screams louder. Its sound is so damn familiar. Still, you know how to drown it out because this isn't the first time its asked for your help, and though its yell loses strength with each depressing episode, you find that each one always ends the same...and there's comfort in that. You grab for what you know: the drugs, the sex, the food; a gutter chalk full with self-abuse. You've quenched your thirst with the escape you craved, but in the morning you wake up cold and cotton mouthed. Alone. Again.
Ramblings for later expansion...
This is where you will stay, unless you break from your routine and unless you question yourself and realize that true freedom is self-control, that there is joy in suffering, and that there is judgment in your life after death. You will wake up when you submit yourself to the love of the Father and His guidance alone. You scoff at his laws, his commandments and his rules, but what you fail to see is that they are guidelines and they are absolute, they are not relative because truth is not relative. Thus neither is this life. It has order...and so you wonder about why the world is then in chaos, and I respond that the chaos is you, it's relativism’s deadly character to send us all in conflicting directions. We crash without traffic lights.
When you awake, remember that there is a war being fought. You are meant to be a soldier. It is a spiritual battle against the evil that has lulled us to sleep. The devil does not want us to open out eyes. He does not want us to feel, he does not want us to realize that we are heaven sent, that we are meant to be saints.
When we open our eyes we are amazed by the darkness, and drawn instinctively into the light.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you'd only give life instead of take it. Then maybe I wouldn't feel so sick over this, if when you took life you realized it wasn’t for you to take and that you’re lucky you have the ability to make….if you only knew what it was you were erasing.
Existence is precious.
posted by Timothy Herrmann at 7:16 PM
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