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Life is hard. The only place to soothe the roughness is home. Home is where you find your smile and where you are understood. Welcome! @Burningwords The writer. 👆
To crave, and to consume, and then to crave more, and consume ever more.
How wide and large and inviting are the gates of Hell, and how short and refreshing and enjoyable its road.
I see men and women laughing and holding hands riding in their cars, on the highway to hell. I've never seen smiles so big, laughters so hearty and loud.
A woman with thighs as thick as my waist hold out her hand for me to grab. She must be Eve, in spirit or literally—a crimson satin scarf girdled round her waist, and that's her only wear.
From her small, firm breasts to her wide grin to her eyes full of play, my eyes travel. She paid no mind to me scanning her, pretty painted hands extended for me.
I hesitate to feel her warmth. I want to, or should I say something in me wants me to.
What would her hand feel like on my chest?
"You'll be with me, and my friends will be yours also," she says.
There were six others behind her, just as gorgeous, just as smiley, just as full of eagerness.
I swallow.
It's not like the road I'm on is fun.
It's narrow. Painful. And I feel pain often, tested and stressed, pushed and pressured.
I don't take her hand.
Instead I extend my own hand, to her, to them, and say, "Come with me instead, come and you'll see, we'll be rewarded for enduring."
Her face changed, turned red. Rage. Wrath. Too red, slowly redder than blood. Her grin turned into clenched jaws out of frustration.
Her nails grow pointy.
I took that as a no, and collected my hand back. That's when the loving woman who have been holding my other hand all the while, tugged me toward her.
"I'm with you," she says, rubbing the back of my hands. Her voice soft. "I'm yours."
"You slut!" screamed one of the seven woman, and slashed the loving woman beside me with her sharp nails.
Out of four cruel slash marks on the loving woman's beautiful face poured blood. She felt pained, and she sobbed. "I'm with you," she says to me, her grip strengthening.
Sadness reverberates my heart. I'm shaken.
Then I get angry, I want to kill the seven.
Another of the seven begin moaning, touching herself, and says to me, "Sweet man, hold me with your arms and take sip from the flower amid my hips."
This time I don't hesitate.
I take off my shirt.
I circle my arm around the beautiful, loving woman beside me. "I'm with you," I say to her, and begin drying her bloody face with my shirt.
...
#excerpt
The best revenge is to be unlike who did the damage.
Читать полностью…
If you expect each meeting and each moment with your lover to be exciting and fiery, you really don't know what love is.
Sit with them, not to be excited, not to be stimulated, but just to be.
If you don't know how to do that, you'll start thinking you're falling out of love, or assume that you were never in love to begin with.
But that's not the case.
Love is not an agreement in which you milk excitement out of the other person until it dries up.
Love is not a place where the other person makes your heart flutter all the time.
You may say, "But I deserve to feel those things."
Firstly, nobody knows what you deserve, only God knows what horrible errors you've committed in your life.
Secondly, everybody deserves love, but it doesn't have to be exciting, blazing, passionate love all the time.
Sometimes it's silent love where you speak with touches.
Sometimes it's slow love where you speak of what happened last week, nothing exciting in particular, nothing big, but it's being spoken, and that alone is wonderful.
Sometimes it's gloomy love, the moment after a fight, where you're trying to find your rhythm again. Grumpy, angry at each other, unkind and unfiltered with words, and yet determined to get back together. Of course in these moments, being forgiving, not holding on to the damage done helps massively, and forgiving is good, because you too think, do and say things, which don't deserve forgiveness.
If you don't understand these things, you won't last long.
Needless to point out, but you'll suffer from unnecessary breakups.
#small_words
Here's a bonus point.
Don't trust those who DEMAND you trust fact-checkers.
NOTE: I didn't say fact-checkers are always evil and wrong. I'm saying they shouldn't be exempt from questioning. They should be doubted and questioned.
When speaking with others, assume there's something they know that you don't.
Unless you do that, you become arrogant.
You speak like only what you say is valid.
You treat everything others speak as nonsense.
This is where the teaching "Love your enemies" is very important.
Unless you're willing to open your heart to other's viewpoint, unless you're willing to see that maybe your enemy is right, you'll never learn anything.
Remember that you don't even know what you want in life, that you don't even succeed in your own plans.
You fail a lot of times within a single day.
Get off your high horse.
Your opinion is not as important and true as you think it is.
Color your attitude with humility.
Remember that you're nothing, and that you're not that smart, and that your skills are poorer than you give them credit for.
Then and only then, Truth reveals himself to you.
#small_words
The more decorated her face is, the more insecure she is.
The more he's careful to keep his cool when he talks, when he walks, when he sits, when he takes a sip, when he takes a bite... it's likely he's empty.
A simple-looking woman and a care-free man who doesn't rehearse his gait are the absolute best company on earth.
Good weekend to you.
And people are sharing their life stories with chatGPT.
What is wrong with you?
It's not a human being.
You could be desperate for connection, but it's not a human being.
You'll be further depressed. Stop asking that thing what you should tell your girlfriend, or what you should give your boyfriend.
Figure it out.
Think.
THINK.
I know technology is often disguised as a "tool to simplify life", but all I'm seeing these tools do is distract and make people unbelievably lazy.
These Orthodox and Protestants out here think they're Christians. 😂
Good Lord.
You reek of self-righteous attitude, acting and believing that you're better than other people.
You don't forgive your lover for his and her wrongs.
You barely, if ever, confess your sins. Rarely to God the Son, and never to the people you love.
You blame your parents for your misery.
Hell, your real god is actually screens! Jumping from content to content, the things you listen to and gaze at are filth full of nudity, garbage empty sex, rage, and full of pride—the sin of Satan himself, and needless to mention, the greatest sin.
You're angry, so angry. At me, at your family, at your life, at the world.
You're a slave. To alcohol, to one more nude picture, to one more content before sleep, to smoke, to lusting with multiple people, giving bits of your soul away.
You justify your sins, saying it's the fault of this person, or that thing, or those events that took place in your past, or how the systems are set up.
You pray, not to beg for forgiveness for the sinner you are or to thank him for all he's done for you, but to point out to God the things he hasn't yet given to you, or the things that didn't go your way.
When was the last time you read the Gospels to meditate on them?
When was the last time you approached him with contrite of heart and asked so he would have mercy on your being?
When was the last time you seeked to be in his presence?
These Orthodox and Protestants are out here insulting each other, saying how wrong the other is, when in reality most of them are not Christians anyways. So much that they don't even get what I mean by this sentence.
Supposed followers of Christ who are really just follower of trends.
They go to church weekly because they ought to, not to be in communion with Christ and to soak in his presence.
Do not approach me and tell me what I need to believe in. Do not tell me how wrongly I'm leading my life.
Behold Christ's own words:
[4] How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? [5] You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.
Matthew 7:4-5 NIV
This is not a statement to make myself appear as a saint.
I'm a lowly sinner, and I fail many times a day. I'm guilty of most, if not every, of the sins stated above. And it's all my fault, my own insufficiencies, I am the problem. My flesh is weak, and it leads me to listen to and indulge in evil temptations. I make mistakes, and what's worse is I make the same mistakes. It takes failing others and failing myself many times before even one lesson is learned. I'm not saying I'm a saint with this writing.
This writing is for you self-righteous bastard to shut your loud hole for a moment, and then take a long look in the mirror.
See anything good?
¹⁷ And I'm forced to choose from two sides. My free will is there for this reason, and this reason alone:
To choose between good and evil.
¹⁸ Even though my choice is clear, the body is reigning over my soul, and I'm in agony.
¹⁹ As long as I'm in this body, will things stay this way? A prisoner to evil.
O dear life, when have I ever asked for any of this?
²⁰ My poor soul
Will you ever be saved?
²¹ O my Savior, where are you, and when will you see my suffering and have pity on me?
I'm being crushed.
I'm losing myself.
²² Isn't there a better home for my soul other than this wretched warzone I'm in?
²³ O Savior, I'm not here of my own will, nor do I have the strength to save myself.
Look at me and have pity on me.
²⁴ The war never ends, and my soul is weary, bloody from being pulled from two sides each day.
I'm weary, O Savior, have pity on me.
²⁵ Take me where I can find peace.
Take me far from the war, and bless me with silence for once in my life.
#excerpt
Body. Mind. Soul.
¹ Body - territory of sin
Mind - territory of good
How can I describe soul? It's me. It's what makes me different from a dead body. It's the life force present inside my body and mind.
Body and mind dress my soul.
² O poor soul, your suffering is many.
Body and mind war against each other to mark you as their slave.
³ Why you are considered valuable is a mystery to me.
But I see that both my body and my mind want to have dominion over my soul. I feel it, this raging war.
⁴ And I see that body is almost always the victor.
I know this, because of how I keep falling, how I keep harboring anger and resentment, how I lust over women on and off my screen, how I let laziness consume me.
How I keep doing things, which I know I'll regret.
⁵ I see that it's rare for mind to win.
⁶ O poor soul, what have you been awakened to?
⁷ My soul knows what she wants.
She wants mind to triumph, but powerful is the body, vast is its territory.
⁸ Why am I created this way? Or how did things come to be this way?
Who knows...
#excerpt
Tbc...
Words. There's something very special about words.
Читать полностью…
Nobody is thinking about you the way you think they're thinking about you.
That's simply your ego making you assume that people give fervent attention to what you're doing.
You're not that important in any shape or form.
I like people who go in a sophisticated restaurant and announce that they don't know any of the meals written in the menu and ask the waiter for his assistance, compared to the people who act like they know and order some shit they're gonna hate.
Humility is arguably the hardest and most valuable virtue to attain.
It's not just so people look at you and go, "Wow she's so humble."
It's actually useful.
Denial of Self
I'd rather you yell at me than ignore me to die out on my own. I'd rather feel the rage of your words, and the anger you're harboring against me, than for you to punish me with silence and distance.
Don't do that. Don't withdraw from me like that. Don't severe the only tie that matters to me, the tie that I have with you.
Our bond, even if it's a rough one, it's still our bond. I feel naked without it, as if there exists no life beyond it.
People told me not to attach too strongly, or else one day it's going to hurt. People told me not to love you as much, instead to love myself more.
But what beauty, what courage, what faith, is there in self-love? Pure love is unto others, where I sacrifice what I have and what I am for the person I adore. What virtue is there in loving myself?
I'd rather love you. I'd rather find meaning and purpose in building a bridge for your heart and mine.
And if a day comes where you burn our bridge with your deafening silence, so be it.
I will burn with it, and die in it, hoping that I'll be born anew from the ashes, with enough strength to begin building again.
I don't trust people who have deep hate for liars.
They're usually liars themselves.
These little weasels are appearing online. Men who say they stand up for women, but what they do is bend to please women.
Don't you know those cunt guys that smile and be docile and never say anything daring so that they'll always be welcomed by females? Those guys who won't say what they really think because it'll upset their women friends, and they won't ever do anything that upsets their women friends? Those guys who don't really have anything going on sexually, because women aren't really interested in spineless weasels?
Yeah, I don't like those guys.
They don't like women enough to be honest and genuine.
Happy New Year
It's always good to remain alive and get another year to fuck up...
With a bit of luck and a lot of work, this year could be your year.
The burden of being alive is heavy, and may God lighten the load on your shoulders in the latest year.
One thing I recommend for you to try this year:
* Do something that frightens you, acting as if you've never been afraid of it
God be with you. 👊
I remember the faces that showed me kindness on my lowest days.
I will always remember those faces, and it's not up to me, but I dearly hope I don't die before I repay their kind favors.
I will also always remember the faces that laughed me off, or scoffed at me, or got mad at me, when I asked for a hand.
Those that made me feel like I was levels lower than the human race.
Oh it's hard to forget those faces, along with their nasty gestures.
It's impossible to forget.
It burns in my gut like it's an acid that can't be washed away.
I'll keep those faces in the front of my head, so that when I'm needed, even if I couldn't assist with what's being asked of me, I won't be nasty about it.
Why add more suffering to a fellow victim of this harsh reality?
#small_words
Don't ever trust "fact-checkers".
Question them.
Who gave them authority over what's true?
How did they decide what's true?
Do they present something as true/false to help their narrative, or is it really the real scenario?
The Seventh of the Ninth
Our love, our precious love,
Our love is what was always meant to be,
A prophecy written in the book of romance,
Destined to prevail long before we touched each other.
Love so true,
Love so romantic,
That the moon attended our anniversary,
Wearing something she rarely wears,
A blood red mask on her glowing face.
She smiled her red smile,
And she beamed her red glow.
We sit far apart, you and I,
Unfortunate and heart-broken,
But our souls rejoice for another year,
Another year of a bond held together,
Another whole year that our bond prevailed.
Our love, a gift from God,
Gives us strength through this chaotic life.
Blessed are the hands that knit us together,
Blessed is the one
Who allowed me a hand to hold,
A beautiful hand like yours.
I thank him a thousand thanks
And I thank him for a thousand nights
And tears brim and spill,
For look at who I am
And then look at you, the perfect gift I've been graced with.
Tears surface on your pretty eyes,
Tears born in the well of love,
Behold, for you are a work of art,
Painted in the gallery of my heart
#excerpt
The Shepherd and The Sheep
There's something wrong with me from birth.
That "something wrong" makes me do all the bad things I end up regretting (and sometimes keep on doing again and again, until I feel like there's no hope left for me).
Being born deficient is a foundational concept for Christian theology.
Being born as something not enough, or in biblical terms, being born a sinner.
I don't know if there are studies that show whether this is true, but I do know that everybody alive is a living testimony to this claim.
Everybody knows what it means to be lazy, to be lustful, to be greedy, to want to murder, and everybody knows what it means to feel these things and act on these things. Acting on them as if we are not in control of ourselves.
There's no other single religion that I know of that points to the fact that human beings are born a failure.
Christianity further claims that you cannot change the fact that body (meaning sins) reigns over you, unless you get divine help, from the legendary man/God who conquered death.
The first claim of Christianity is irrefutable. There's something fundamentally wrong with us that drives us to do things, which are against our best interests. We're stupid that way.
The second claim, which says that divine help is necessary, can be denied by many, but there are very interesting cases:
People convert into Christians, not Protestants or Orthodox or Catholics, but Christians who claim that they're building a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.
I'm not entirely sure what they mean by that, but the results are astounding.
You see drug addicts forgetting drug.
You see womanizers transforming into women defenders.
You see rotten lazy people pick up responsibilities and carry them forth.
You see stupid people actually become smarter.
Unreliable become reliable.
Porn addicts turn into faithful partners.
And these people claim again and again that they are not changing these things on their own. They say that they are still the same failures, that they don't have, and won't have, what it takes to overcome their flaws.
It all happened because of divine help, because they admitted to Christ that they don't have the power to overcome, and that they needed from him both mercy and help.
Even though the second claim is VERY hard to swallow, the results that come from that bond these Christians foster with Christ (which I don't have much of a clue what it means)... the results are beyond me.
For lack of a better term, it is a miracle.
Any human being who understands how painful it is to not be able to live with yourself, with all that you are and all that you have done and keep doing, KNOWS that calling this result a miracle is no exaggeration.
#small_words
"So how do you use AI for your writings?"
I'm getting this question more often, since AI captured people's hearts.
Well I don't use AI.
AI is extremely dissatisfying in creative writings (unless you don't know what you're doing).
Not to mention how to lures you to become more reliant on it, a slow descent into laziness.
I love the suffering of figuring out what to say next, or if I have already figured what to say, I wanna come up with a style or a cool deliverance.
And AI is fed the little writing tricks, such as
* Use shorter sentences
* Use day to day basic words
* Use conversational tone
And it forces every writing to be that way, which is extremely boring.
Because I was curious, I once asked it to write me a rhyming poem that's about this and this things.
Then it did.
All the lines have same number of syllables, very rigid, and I could sense that it is not human.
Other than those things, there's proofreading and editing, which I still prefer others or myself to do. Of course it gets the grammar and the punctuations right, and the speed of it is LIGHTNING, but editing is not just about that.
Its suggestions for an edit stinks of propaganda, trying to make me sound docile, so that these fickle-hearted readers won't get offended, or trying to keep me in line with certain political narratives.
I don't set out to offend, but if you get offended, it just means you got offended.
Cry.
Before getting high, and as the weed was being rolled into a badly made joint, my friends were talking about all the sexy ladies they saw on the streets, and it happened that I didn't see any of the sexy ladies.
I just wasn't interested. I had a girl, so I didn't care much for laying eyes on ladies, and I did tell them that.
Then one of my friends jokingly said, "Bro is just freshly in love."
Funny how I'm still freshly in love...
I've been a target of these little tiny mocking remarks when it comes to things I'm really good at, and I sometimes wonder if they (so-called friends) are not really joking.
I sometimes wonder if it's envy.
I mean I could swear there's a hint of disgust, in some cases anger, in their tone. It's a hint, a slight whiff, and it's very hard to accuse them of putting me down out loud after such interactions, because I'd be deemed as somebody who just can't take a joke.
But I swear, man, I swear I could sense something else behind the joke.
Most people find sitting down to read hard, and so they don't.
Most people don't have personalized opinions on hard subject matters.
Most people don't update their beliefs consciously.
And most people are assholes and sheep.
Take what you may from this statement.
⁹ The only thing I'm sure of is that if the body keeps winning, then my soul is in misery.
¹⁰ The body is against what's good for my soul. Why does it hate my soul so much? What have I ever done to the body?
¹¹ I guess this is what they mean by evil.
Evil corrupts and poisons and hurts the innocent. Why?
Because it does.
No explanation behind it. No science. No understanding that comes from it.
Evil: it corrupts and destroys the innocent.
¹² My soul is innocent: it's neither good nor evil.
Behold! the body tugs me that way, and the mind tugs me this way.
¹³ I've chosen a side; my heart has decided long ago that the mind is whom I want to be a slave to.
¹⁴ I'd like to contemplate where my soul even came from, who clothed my soul with body and mind, why body and mind are warring for dominion over souls, and what all of it means...
I wish I could think on these things, but life is pulling at me in every direction imaginable, and the war inside is too painful to even let me think for a moment.
¹⁵ I just want to do something to help the mind win.
¹⁶ O how fallible and weak I am!
I can't even help myself.
I didn't come alive through my choosing.
The war is present—not through my choosing.
#excerpt
tbc...
After a long while without listening to any music, I decided that it was time for me to enjoy some, typed in YouTube "The Weekend" (because autocorrect won't let me omit the 'e').
I saw he had a new music with some other guy released 10 months ago, with massive number of views.
Clicked on it.
Started great, banging melody.
Then not long after, the new guy I don't know is seen, wearing a horned mask, looking like an actual goat (wonder what that means), and I was forced to watch almost-naked black women that are overweight shake their asses.
Then I turned it off and went back to not listening, which by the way is a blissful state.
Are musicians forced to "pornify" their content like every other industry, or do some of these artists actually consider these scenes art?
Lips That Murder Lust
Honey is what oozes from those lips.
Sweet to my heart,
Sweet to my soul,
The sourness of life has fallen into eclipse.
It's humbling to fall in love,
With someone from heavens above.
She is far beyond what a man like me deserves,
The way she carries herself, not to mention her curves.
She's a marble carved into the perfect lady.
Thoughts of her pearly eyes,
Thoughts of her smile that glows,
Those thoughts seize my heart when I wake up daily.
I don't crave an orgasm,
You're not a means to an end for me.
You're not a tool for my pleasure,
Your heart, that's the real treasure.
Where else will I ever find your cadence?
I touch you wrong,
And I piss you off,
But you're gifted with unreal patience.
It is not love that I seek,
Nor is it tits and holes to reach my peak.
It is your love that I'm toiling to feel.
Grace me with your presence,
Grant me mercy for my errors,
And give over to me your body and kneel.
I want your body,
And I want no body after yours.
When free from the hold of your hair bands,
Your hair is like flames waving about your head.
You glow,
And I'm a lucky fool looking up at a burning star.
Your hair curtains me inside the little world you created for me.
Your lips curve up into a small smile
Before they electrify mine,
And your warm tongue begins melting between my teeth.
I was never supposed to be loved this way,
Or so that's what I was convinced of,
But here you are,
Pouring your heart out for little ole me.
What brings forth life lies between those hips.
Honey is what oozes from those lips,
And I'm an addict to the taste of those drips.
#excerpt
David saw the woman, Bathsheba, showering from, I believe, his window. Bathsheba was so beautiful, a sight to behold, and he desired her.
David by this time already had multiple wives to have his way with, but he wanted more. He wanted that gorgeous woman.
David was the king of Israel, and he used his power to collect information. He found out she was wife to a good man named Uriah.
And yet David summoned her to his chambers to have his way with her. He took her to his bed, and he did what he wanted with her, which led to her becoming pregnant.
After learning that, he decided to take Uriah out of the picture. There were several battles happening, and David ordered one of his many commanders to send Uriah to one of the most deadly front lines, and to abandon Uriah there, so he dies out.
Uriah loved and respected his king David and his country. He served them faithfully and diligently.
The story, sadly, unfolded just as king David planned: Uriah died in the battlefield, abandoned by his soldier brothers, and the king took Bathsheba as his wife.
More for the king.
And God despised what his beloved king David has done, and punished him for it.
This story is shocking to me and to anyone who knows how holy king David was, and the good he had done during his lifetime.
How could such a good holy man be capable of such crimes...?
But such is our fallen nature. We lie, we deceive, we skew the truth to our benefit, we lust away our precious energy, we betray people who rely on us.
We are naturally evil. Our thoughts and our deeds and our words can be very venomous, causing hurt and anguish to those around us.
When I hear a great man I admire, like king David, doing such a thing, it somehow actually relieves me. Maybe I'm bad for saying this, but it does relieve me, such a story.
It makes me think, "Maybe I'm not that bad. I have my share of evil, and I do things I shouldn't, say things I shouldn't, think things I really really shouldn't, but maybe it's not too late for me to try and become a bit more sinless."
That man I dream of becoming, well-gathered, calm and collected, generous, selfless and forgiving, attentive to his lover, tireless in his work... I could still become it.
King David, after committing such a heinous crime, did not give up on himself. He suffered and paid for his crime, and he went on to be a good man once again.
Maybe after all the things I did and said, which I hate myself for, maybe after all that, I can still will myself to look forward. I don't have to think my life is over.
Maybe I can forgive myself.
Better yet, maybe I SHOULD forgive myself.
Christ gained fame, approval of the public, but it came with a cost.
Attendees of their churches started declining in numbers.
The priests and higher-ups hated His guts, hated what He was making them look like.
They didn't care for the miracles He performed, or for the people He healed and helped.
They cared about their name. Their legacy, and envy was a major part of what made them want him dead.
The pharisees who were known for their intellect and their keeping of the laws of God to the dot followed Him in the places He taught the public. And they would throw a slimy question, hoping to throw Him off guard and make Him look bad in front His own followers.
They failed, and the manner in which they failed was devastating. Resentment filled their hearts.
He was a threat to their name. To the establishment. And to the government as well, for at the time the church was tightly knit with the ruling class.
Then a day before they hunted Him like a dog and tortured Him into a slow death, He said to His disciples, and I'm paraphrasing, "If the world hates you, remember that they hated me first."
Imagine how much courage must flow in your blood vessels to not care whether you're hated.
Then they decided to crucify Him, because only thieves and people they view as far lower than they are were nailed to a cross.
It was the Jews way of humiliating Him. It was a humiliation ritual.
And they succeeded. He suffered physical agony, and He suffered humiliation.
The government always hated those who contended with their power.
Christ never used any sort of violence to spread His message, and yet His name prevailed far more gloriously than any empire that tried to prevail through brute force.
Not a single other soul in history has ever accomplished what He had accomplished through love.
He is the biggest example as to how far low you could be treated, and the virtue He maintained even when they spat on Him, even when His Body could not handle it anymore...
It's unprecedented.
It's new.
It's terrifying grit.
I can see why some people hate Him with passion.
I can also see how a lot of people worship Him with fear and reverence.
Have a blessed Sunday.
I've written quite a bit over the years, haven't I?
What a gorgeous life.
Have a good day. ❤️