Poetic Nothings Mean Everything To Me Read Count : 15

Category : Articles

Sub Category : Miscellaneous

Jesus loves you, I do not.


If Jesus died for our sins why do we still have to repent?


Jesus died for me…. I wish he had asked first, I would've said no thanks….


Satan is a snake who whispers, you are your own God. While God burns down a town, he turns stupid sad hoes into salt for not being made of stone. 


God works in mysterious ways, so does bullshit.


The devil wasn't cast out of eden he left. Basically God fired him after he already quit. Not wanting to live as an angelic slave, uniqueness disappears without a trace when everything you are is thanks to God's good grace.


    You didn't master anything in life God's mastering you. That's not humble but the greatest weakness I could think of to have. 

 

  The evil of the egotist for thinking he's the one, never praying rather meditating on what work needs to be done and how come, simply for when and how he has his fun. 


   The blessing of the dumb, a simple prayer and then there done. 


   I'm mapping out my worries, that I will overcome. If everything's a miracle then no victory can be won. Wield your power like it's the only one.


   Never victimize yourself as meek, that's a framework for the weak. Individualized uniqueness is all we need. Celebrate yourself and chase after all of your dreams. Best versions of you only benefits the team. 


   When the individual rises, he brings with him his surrounding network. 


   Tax funded hierarchy standing easily handed down by neutered means. If the system gives the same boost and everyone's approved, life remains the same. 


   If I succeed I'd bring those closest to me, I could create the means for the entire team.


   The church gets a new stage for Jesus to use, while the roof leaks at home for you. Help yourself gain the strength to carry another before anything else outside your control. You can't give the shirt off your back when you're already bare chested. God will Bless those who Bless themselves, wealth is bestowed by selflessness of those traveling on a noble path.

   

   I believe down to the very core of my being in power of egocentric self imposed meaning. Masters of whatever lives we are leading, both its blessings and its demons. 


  I talk to the god by the same name I was given, I have the wisdom if only I would listen. Practice the path of my religion, because routine is the key I think I'm missing. Selfishly complete my mindfully spontaneous mindset, well greased grooves of previously trusted moves trained to be as instinctually produced as exhales. Faith that my words and my actions represent my noble intentions accurately. 


   The ego in me is a monstrously ingrained need for control of my own reality. The most powerful entity in my own existence, not a god of everything, but the only god I see, the god of me. I grant no essence power over me, be it man, government, ideal, or God. I'm not in control of all reality but anything that affects me can also be affected by me. I'm King Jullian, the lonely Jewls to guide me. I see, what I need, and I'm the one and only. Who better than yourself, your own wise principles, and gloriously overwhelming chaos you felt, fuels the story's you'll tell.


  I'm paraphrasing a song but…  I will share my eventual peace of mind, every nuance I could find over my lifetime. I literally can feel it my bones, as if my body already knows where to look. 


   "Shine that light on me, I'll sit and tell you my stories". I interpret that as self analyzed understanding. Introspective investigations of what makes my clock tick. I must be mechanically aware of the reasons behind the functionality of me if it exist. A cognitive behavioral refitting, giving my clock hands a more upbeat tisk, telling the correct time for everyone's benefit.


   What is the value of my X, Y, and Z? What does my equations balance need? Every variable and component adds up and equals me. Is there an order of operations that can solve the chaotic mess that entangles me. 

   

   Beautifully, transparently, unknowingly, my greatness might also be my disease. Is there a method, or a medicine for me? That won't change what I see myself to be? 


   Insanity, profanity, the vanity of my reality. Mystical and masterful, I even control my lucid dreaming. Static vs erratic, heavens and the hells, both mean nothing to me. Just like nightmares or a good dream, it interrupts my peaceful nothings and my restful sleep. 

 

   The half full glass will freeze in the winter, while the half empty glass evaporates over the summer. The completely full glass is audibly oinking excess and greed. Only the empty glass is at peace with himself, liberated from the tides of internal seas. 


   Regardless how you see the cup, I'm still thirsty for what I'm supposed to be. My glass is cracked and sprung a leak. I embrace the change, destiny meant me to be this holy. My vacuum long ago passed empty, fresh to fill in. A unfailing void of unresolved self loathing, hate, and anger for the mundane. Everything means nothing when to me it's all the same.


"Constant Quick Fixes, They Make No Sense to Me!"             - Billy Talent


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  • Dec 31, 2020

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