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| Why is it that if someone has an opinion that’s different than the “supposed” majority, they’re automatically labelled a “bigot” and a “hater”?
Tolerance means loving someone and giving them respect that transcends the disagreements but it does not necessarily mean condoning the action or perspective.
The only thing is to hope that the other party would progressively come to terms with your viewpoint through dialogue, heart to heart conversations and the space to allow disagreements.
That’s the only thing that both sides can do. | | |
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Her lips were like velvet. Passion like heated butter dripping down their tongues. She looked into his eyes, searching for acknowledgement. Tell me I am beautiful. Show me the meaning of my inner worth. His hands were riposte-ing and sixstepping around her stomach. A dangerous game of hide and seek. Seeking. Finding. But he had no answer.
With every touch, it was for self satisfaction. The very fact of the situation puffed up his ego. Why does he always end up in regretting this? Her kisses become fierce and she begins to expose herself, making her external vulnerability available to him, serving herself to him on a platter. The forbidden fruit. The poisoned apple. The kiss of death.
Another night of alcohol. Another night of emotionless passion. He had to stop it somewhere. He always stopped it somewhere. The clocked began to slow down as he pondered his exit plan. What would be his excuse this time? Where would he hide to next? Why can’t he say no before it even started? His mind is running but his body reacts to her touch.
His hands caresses her face as he gently pulls away. His eyes fall deep into her glazed over pupils. The smell of Patron still circumventing the oxygen in the room. He is searching for her. Where is she? But this girl in front of him could not be her. He did not even know her name. He kisses her on the forehea. dI’m sorry. I can’ t do this to you. This was a mistake. He says silently. I need to go get something from the car. She understood it to mean protection. He meant it as the escape route.
Mistakes. Always another night of messed up emotional baggage. What was it about this lifestyle that kept drawing him back into this dangerous dance of passion? He knew he had to escape. To break free from these chains of lust and desire. He made a promise. To himself. To the unknown her. To God. And everywhere he went, they followed.
Confused, she says Okay but you’ll be right back, right? He slowly gets up and grabs his possessions. Watch. Check. Wallet. Check. Keys. Check. Dignity. Half Check.
He kisses her on the forehead and tells her to go to sleep. He opens the window a slight bit to let the cool air in on this hot summer night. Walking away slowly, he turns the handle to door, and continues walking as he waves goodbye. Never looking back. | | |
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I wish i can open the door that leads to your thoughts, the key that would fit the lock that connects all those chains around your deeply scarred heart.You walk past by me as if I don’t exist. And in your world, I am nothing but the background. And it’s true I may not know your name. But from the first second, i know your first impression so very well. So…we’re just strangers and you just need to get out of here and grab a taxi to get to the next destination that will fill this void in your life and answer the call for your loneliness.
Your eyes speak volumes into mine as we continue to have deep conversations through our body motions. You tell me how insanely messed up you are and i tell you that i have been there and i feel the same way sometimes. You call BS and i sit there trying to figure out another way to make you understand that i understand. “How come I can’t be perfect?” “Why do i have to feel pain the way i do?” “I mean, I’m spending 2 weeks of 6 hours a day of therapy sessions?” “How f**ked up am I?” “How can i recover?” “How can i be normal again?”…
You pop the medicine into your mouth. The ones that will keep you levelheaded. The ones that they tell you will balance you out. One second you are laughing and the other you are motionless. I struggle to figure out when you came and when you’ve gone. For you’ve turned into a shell of your former self.
My friend, we’re all f**ked up. In some way, shape or form, we are in some way broken little pieces. Our hearts are broken, our minds are broken, our families are dysfunctional, our esteems are low, and we’ve all put on our multi-layered masks. We are all in need of healing and we are all recovering. But you dont have to be alone. As you crawl back into your bed and wish to never wake up, i hope you see that there are people waiting to journey with you together. People who know love and even though they struggle to accept this perfect love, we are trying, we are trying each day to understand it and welcome it into our lives. And we have hope in something, Someone that is bigger than the dysfunction BS that you went through, the pain and abuse that you’ve suffered, the depression that seems to engulf your dreams, goals and aspirations. There is light at the end of this forsaken tunnel.
So here’s my hand…let’s go through this together. There is hope.
It’s okay….. | | |
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there’s just something so human about the arts…
there’s just something in capturing your situation right at that moment and then recreating it in your own way as if to put your own signature on it.
the singer with the distressed voice, and melancholy inducing lyrics.
the actor with the eyes of sadness that could drown the smiles of a sea of happy babies.
the broken up yet rhythmic word plays of the spoken word.
the fish eye vintagesque picture of a dreamcatcher searching for identity in his polaroid.
the rage of the artist, the painter, the beast expressionist as he destroys the canvas, slinging paint everywhere like a hand grenade of teal and black
at then moment that they are seen, heard, or felt,
it’s as if the glass bottle of emotional content shattered on the floor,
and for that split second, we catch a glimpse, a whiff, a breeze of the human condition pass through us.
for that split second, we can see the pain, the joy, the rage, the jealousy, the apathy, the pride, the shame, we can feel it speak through us through the works.
and for that moment and moment only we can peek inside the glass display of emotion.
Then we move on, and on and on to the next one,
seeking to create our own displays, our very own bottles to break.
beautiful. | | |
| so it’s been a while huh? today i’m talking about passion. What are YOU passionate about? What do you love doing? Does it drive your life? What time do you devote to it? I have to constantly remind myself ithat passion is contagious. Passion is maintained through consistency. I don’t care what you love doing or believe in ,but once you stop doing it for awhile or you find less and less people that are passionate as well, then that passion fades away. This happens for everything that you like doing. For me especially, passions come and go.
I’m a idealist, i think of ideas, i start projects but rarely do i finish them unless i have a pusher or something to push me towards the finish line. It can be from working out, to reading God’s word, to evangelism, to singing and so on and so forth. I take one step and reflect on myself and i find myself so nonchalant about everything. I’m tired of just going with the flow. I feel like i’m in the box you know. This box of just mediocrity. Plain. Simple. And i know that THAT is not who i am. God did not reveal Himself to me jsut so i can just enjoy this side of life. There’s so much to do. There’s so many things i need to improve on. I want to stop but i dont want to stop.
I want to stop doing things that waste my time and little effect on me in the long term sense. I want to stop spending idle time on facebook and all this internet crap and sit back and read a book. I want to be passionate about just talking to people about Jesus and what He has done in my life and who He is in relation to every single aspect of our lives. I don’t want to be afraid anymore of telling people i desire to go to seminary, to know the history of the church and to know how to effectively study God’s word and make it understandable to common people who may not go to church but need to hear a word of encouragement during the week. Yeah.
I’m a Christian. And I’m also a human being. I’ve fallen short many times. I’ve been on the other side and back. and I’m back to tell everyone things i’ve seen, so i cna encourage and warn of the things that they will face. I want to be a tool that sets off a spark in someone’s heart, i want to be able to help them ignite their passion for God and for whatever they love doing. And i don’t want to be alone doing that. So next time i’m walking past, can you ask me how i’m doing too? cause i’ll do the same for you. Let’s ignite the passion in our hearts and grow together. | | |
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