The Final Fight

Beautiful song.

I would rather write her a song, because songs don't wait to resolve, and because songs mean so much to her. Stories wait for endings, but songs are brave things bold enough to sing when all they know is darkness. ~twloha.com/vision/story

"Fear. Fear attracts the fearful. The strong. The weak. The innocent. The corrupt.
Fear.
Fear is my ally."
~Darth Maul


I believe that there is Good and Evil.
I believe that they are both active.
I believe that they conflict, that they are opposites, mortal enemies.
Call me what you like, I believe that Good trumps Evil.
I believe this to be a Truth.
Meaning that it is true, whether men agree or not.
The philosophical realm does not tolerate democracy.
Because democracy is not based on Truth. 
But that's an argument for another post.

I believe that Good trumps Evil, and I believe this is true.
I also believe that all men must choose to live for one over the other.
I believe most men make this choice without realizing it.
I believe this is possible because the choice is made everyday. 

I believe our actions and experiences have a purpose.
I believe that purpose is to change men, to transform us, to convert our hearts.
That, I believe, is what life is about:  a conversion of the heart of Man.

I am not speaking strictly religiously. 
Faith without works is, after all, dead.
I am saying that every moment you are alive, every heartbeat, every breath, every step, every word, every touch, always, you are in constant metaphysical motion.
Movement is possible in one of two directions at a time: forwards or backwards. 
Good or Evil.


There have been moments when I stop doing.  I just stop.  And I feel the stillness around me.  I let the stillness saturate my skin.  I attempt to become equally still inwardly.  I simply exist for a moment, and I feel.  I find that the initial stillness masks a collision of sorts as it  occurrs around me.   I witness it.  I am a part of it.  It's over humanity.  It's over me.  My heart begins to race.  So this is what it's all about, this is why I'm here?



"This issue is now quite clear.  It is between light and darkness, and everyone must choose his side."
~GKC's last words


The Sound (John M. Perkins Blues)

The Static comes in slow.
You can feel it grow.
Our stream of conscience flows
Under the streets below.

The rivers made of sound
Still running underground
Runs like a silent flood.
We run as thick as blood.

Can you hear it rise
Up from the ground?
Can't drown it out,
Can you hear it now?

This is the sound
of a heartbeat.
This is the sound
from the discontented mouths
Of a haunted nation.
We are the voice of breaking down.

Can you hear me?
This is the sound
of the desperation bound
By our own collisions.
We are the voice of breaking down.

The static comes alive
Beneath the broken sky.
John Perkins said it right:
Love is the Final Fight.
Let it rise above,
Rise above.
There is no song
Louder than Love.

This is the sound
of a heartbeat.
This is the sound
from the discontented mouths
of a haunted nation.
We are the voice of breaking down.

Can you hear me?
This is the sound
of the desperation bound
by our own collisions.
We are the voice of breaking down.

Let it rise above
Up from the ground.
Can't drown it out.
Can you hear it now?

This is the sound
of a heartbeat.
This is the sound
of the discontented mouths
Of a haunted nation.
We are the voice of breaking down.

Can you hear me?
This is the sound
of the desperation bound
by our fallen condition.
We are the voice of breaking down.

This is the sound.
This is the sound.

...like freedom in spring

We all need people to talk to about anything.  Two kinds of people are easiest to talk to about anything:

The people closest to us
These are ideal, and not everyone has them.  The ones we grew up with, who've seen us at our best and worst like anyone could, but they've seen us through it.  They know what we have given up and gained.  They know our true stories, our true selves, our hearts. 

People we meet once and never again
These people do not know our name, where we live, what we've done, what we believe.  They may know our typing speed.  For one brief moment they may listen better than people who think they know us because they have no pre-conceptions. 

Both of these kinds of people can provide what we want.  What we want is to be deeply known without being judged.




"...she's been staring down the demons who've been screaming she's just another so-and-so
don't let go, don't let go tonight.

there's a fear that burns like trash inside,
and your shame the curse that burns your eyes.
you've been hiding in the bedroom hoping this isn't how the story has to go.
it's not the way it goes.
it's your book now.

you're a lonely soul in the land of broken hearts
and your "far from home" is the perfect place to start

this world is a dead man down
every breath is a fading crown we wear like some debilitated king

the earth spins and the moon goes round
the green comes from the frozen ground
and everything will be made new again
like freedom in spring"
~Golden, by Switchfoot

Love. Always.

One of the retreats my high school required us to go on.  The theme of this particular weekend was something like "removing the masks"- we were supposed to be examining our past and our hopes for our futures, and find who we are, our true identity in the middle of it all.  In the now, behind the disguises we wear for the world, and sometimes for ourselves.  The ones that we've been wearing for too long because we forget what we look like underneath them. 

Naturally, one of the crafts was creating a papier mache mask of each other's faces then decorating our own with images symbolizing ourselves in the future.  Most of my classmates' images had something to do with a sport, a college, or a profession.  Mine wasn't.  I am not an athlete.  I was not looking forward to college.  I still have no idea what sort of job I want to work at when I grow up.  And I hate planning my future like that.  I can handle only the present.  If I think of more, my performance becomes beyond poor, and my sanity slips.

The only constant I've seen in my past and the only pattern I believe I can count on seeing in my future is suffering.  Suffering coupled with joy if I allow it.  My mask was different.  One half was entirely black, except for a circlet of dead and painful thorns, and a single red tear of blood shed by the eye.  I decorated this side as I thought of the letdowns, the pain, the evil I will participate in and witness over the course of my life.  This is the heavy, darker, desperate side of life, of my future.  I let the other half of my face remain white, except a simple crown of read roses and a bit of soft crimson in the cheeks.  This half is meant to reveal the beauty, the purity, the love, the goodness I may choose despite the darkness' suffocating weight. This is the light, lovely, hopeful potential of my life, of me.

The opposites rely on each other to maintain the delicate balance of sanity.  Much like how Love implies Justice as well as Mercy.

As real as suffering is, its couterpart must be moreso.  I believe it is simple, and I believe it is called Love.  Always.  Every opportunity with everyone you meet - you will be given each opportunity only once.  Love them as well as you know how, if only for a moment.  Chances are, they will not take much notice.  But if you persist someone will.   When they do, they will remember you and that moment.  They will remember that there is more to life than the mundane and the letdown it often seems to be.  You are alive, and that is no accident, no coincidence.  You are meant to live for more than you've settled for.


"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a battle."
~ Plato


Let Your Love be Strong
By Switchfoot

In this world of news
I've found nothing new.
I've found nothing pure.

Maybe I'm just idealistic to assume that Truth
Could be fact and form,
That love could be a verb.
Maybe I'm just a little misinformed.

As the dead moon rises
and the freeways sigh,
Let the trains watch over
the tides and the mist
Spinning circles in our skies tonight.

Let the trucks roll in from Los Angeles;
Maybe our stars are unanimously tired.

Let your love be strong and I don't care what goes down.
Let your love be strong enough to weather through the thunder cloud.
Fury and thunder clap like stealing the fire from your eyes.
All of my world hanging on your love.

Let the wars begin.
Let my strength wear thin.
Let my fingers crack.
Let my world fall apart.
Train the monkeys on my back to fight.

Let it start tonight
When my world explodes,
when my stars touch the ground,
Falling down like broken satellites.

Let your love be strong and I don't care what goes down.
Let your love be strong enough to weather through the thunder cloud.
Fury and thunder clap like stealing the fire from your eyes.
All that I am hanging on,
All of my world resting on
Your Love.


Persist.