gaober

forgiveness is a virtue that is far and few between in this modern era, and i believe it is not because the faults of the common man but rather the attacks on truth by those who claim themselves righteous. the foundation of forgiveness is comfort and growth. you do not forgive because you love them, or because they did you a solid a few weeks ago. you forgive them because without it you cannot rise above the darkness they cast over you. i forgive the man, but my blame does not disappear. i do not blame the man, but instead the moment in that man’s judgement that gave him the opportunity to wrong me.

before the Lord said, “let there be light” there was darkness. it is only in the cruelty of the dark that one learns to truly appreciate the faint and struggling glow of candlelight.

i will forever strive that none of my deaths were in vain.

was i a good man? was i a good mother? was i a poet, a warlord, or a servant? when i look at the hands on the wall of a cave and feel that sense of déjà vu is that because i myself placed it there? look, see? i existed. i was here and it was beautiful.

check on those you love and those you do not.

“i am simply playing the rules of the game, and you, sir, have lost the game.”

god, how beautiful everything is despite it all.

i think i fell in love with the world and all of its creations.

yes i do disagree with you, no i do not hate you and yes i understand the perspective where you’re coming from. yes i thought what you did was horrific and yes i think in this moment that you are a terrible person, but no i will not avoid you or defame you because i am full of love from god or maybe i am simply full of love from myself. would you still want to go get some lunch?

Or maybe I was always this terrible. Who knows — oh well.

oh me? no my favorite song is either the song a mother 13,000 years ago sung to her sick son every night as he slipped away or the melodies of a small african village that believes through their music they can connect with souls who’s bodies have long since turned back to soil.

and then to die quickly, to be picked up by careful hands, to be thanked for the life i have lived, and to be welcomed into a new purpose — to feed and fill bellies no different than how i foraged for food to give to young of my own.

my hopes are nothing more than blind delusions and coping mechanisms, but the complexity of the mind is simply too great to just end like a half-efforted cut to black. he has to enjoy a cup of tea atleast.

what the fuck?

but by god is ignorance bliss.