It is Open

It’s open.  I have no idea how. My chest felt a pressure.  Not anxiously. Like a warm vibration as my chest sung in delight.  He had a key that no one else had.  Wall by wall, falls and falls.  How does he do it?  It’s in his smile and eyes, but somewhere unseen as well.  I’m not scared around him.  I can be crazy. I can vent. I could even sing if I wanted.  I built these walls over many years and in many situations.  For so many reasons that cease to exist when I am around him.  He was made to conquer me, to conquer what is not me. To destroy what is not me. So many things are not me, but I clench them so hard.  If someone breaks the walls it will happen again.  No, let me show you.  I’ll scale the wall yet not kill anyone.  I’ll enter the castle, your dominion, without killing.  You were meant to not be this.  You crafted the walls well, but open to meadow, glen, and farm, and forest.  What you will find you cannot deny.  It is where you really are and what you is really.  Live. Live in peace.  Live and find love that grows in the glens.  She is kind if you open.  I promise. And you can trust me.

It Still Moves

It is not a weed.  For some a pine.  Blue-collar timber.  Servant's doors and bed frames.  But let us hope the mighty Oak.  Sure. Yes.  It will take longer.  You'll never see it grow or even think it has moved.  But be certain.  It still moves.  And mighty he will be.  No storm will make it timber; but you need to suffer, to be patient, hopefully even kind.  There will be knots and scars. But worry knot!  They also will hold its weight and direct it toward its celestial telos.

One day, a handsome man will be able to swing from its branches and rest in its shade.  But it can't be small or drooping like a willow.  O Yes.  Many a handsome man will rest under your branches, Willow, but swing from them???  I think knot. Look up! Rejoice! Just look up!  Yes.  It will hurt.  I will always hurt I am sad to say.

But alas! O the Joy. The stars' and the moon's silver melodies will dance, silkily trinkle around each leaf in the midst of the night.  Not the beaming of the midday sun, for it will be too hot at that time, but the colorful delight of dusk does exist.  It crawls between the leaves in your autumnal water-colored foliage.  You see... Joy where you just never could expect.

Hope?

 They tell you it's the future and the future isn't real. It can only hurt you, they tell me. But doesn't hope Drive? I don't want to knock down the tower repeatedly. I have Everytime before. Self-sabotage, I play that line out so so well. But I'm bleeding. I almost bled out. But he saved me and He saved me too. Don't they both love me, then? I can only cry out. I don't want anything, for know I don't need anything. I do want him. I do hope for him. I do live for him, but in Him.

How to (Very Efficiently) Make a Man hold and feel Shame

Gender or the closely related Sex still play a painful role in creating the (always) unhealthy sense of shame.  Not being a woman, I will not go into the pervasive attacks on their sexuality, but especially their body images.  Being a Man, I'm sure I can speak for all of us (in my opinion, of course).  How do we feel and have pain inflicted on us?  To never feel pain, to suck it up, to pick ourselves up by our bootstraps, to not cry unless we want to be given something to cry about, or to translate it into the way most of us encountered the shameful feeling at a young age:

Don't be a Pussy.

Why Does He Love Us?

          Him being Love somehow? ...  but why would the great mysterious Creator of the vastness of the universe love us? Overall, beyond our understanding, there must be some sense to it. Being fully human and God, what does pain feel like?

He'll win and rise again? And the suffering of this world, oh the suffering. He could at least be there more presently, concretely, for us to turn to when we doubt or falter.
       
Where is God (in this)? ...   Modern Christianity shows it's all the 'try your best,'and easy-going nature gives the rest of life... The Patristic Fathers would put us in the center of an incredibly painful, sorrowful, interminable war. Very different. Though, honestly, we know which one is true.

Battling the Dragon

Courage is what comes after you do what you fear... Courage, it's not the lack of Fear.  Heed the Warning.  It's what it is there for,


but Fuck it All if it stops you

To Wait

If it comes real fast, if it provides instant joy, if you get it without you yourself working for it.

Run, RUN, FUCKING RUN.

You can decorate yourself with these emblems, but never will they more than costume.

If it is real gain, if it edifies you, if it makes you better.  Completes the self-
It will hurt. You will have to chase.  You will sweat and your courage must surpass the feeling that you COULD perish.  Real courage is not the lack of fear, but only the ability to smirk and overcome it.

Anything worth gaining, worth using, worth having...  You must have patience, diligence, and of course, be willing to fight with your bare-knuckles for its reception.
God only tests the great.  Those, in all of the infinite value of those who live, tests those who have that Grit.
All true Glory can only follow a valourous Battle.