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I Don’t Believe in Luck

It was the full moon of the fight month, the day the Buddha died, the unluckiest day of the year. ~Quan Barry

I am not a believer in luck either good or bad as bestowed by the forces of creation. Luck is merely a notion we ascribe to events in a vain attempt to explain randomly occurring events. If one is fortunate in any event, we call them lucky and the opposite if calamity is experienced.
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Living Perceived Truth

Our behavior is affected by our assumptions or our perceived truths. ~Simon Sinek.

I once had someone tell me that when we argued about a topic, I always thought I was correct. What the person failed to comprehend is they also thought they were correct. Otherwise there would not be a disagreement. Doh!

Assume. Ass. U. Me. For any person, a perceived truth is truth whether or not it has any basis in objective reality. We assume the pretty girls is kind to animals, kind to humans, perfume wafting into a foul world. It is a myth that persists even when confronted by a reality that all the glitters is not gold and, we forget, some flowers smell like rotting meat.

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All That is Superficial!

I guess there must be a scene where he’s on top of a brown girl. ~Roberto Bolaño

I think my sensibilities may be South American. I may possess or be possessed by a Latin soul. The evidence? I love the samba fútbol danced in the stadia of Brasília. I am mesmerized by the poetry and the stories bled from the souls of South American authors many who penned works in defiance of corrupt and dictatorial governments. I am drawn to women with raven hair, teak eyes.
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Questions or Answers

Your art is not about how many people like your artwork. Your art is about if your heart likes your work. If your soul likes your work. It’s about how honest you are with yourself and you must never trade honesty for relatability. ~Rupi Kaur

I have tendency to write out of hopes of being read instead of speaking the struggles of my soul, the heaviness of a heart struggling to understand itself, to accept itself. This tendency is a veil over the thoughts I need to express to heal the ills of my psyche. Continue Reading »

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I Write Most Every Day Yet Don’t Know Who I Am

Daily, I capture my thoughts on paper with a fountain pen, wet ink soaking into the journal, liquid thought bleeding through the paper ghosting onto the reverse side, words written not by choice but out of necessity, a need to recognize myself.

I flip the page to view the mystery in reverse, secret revelations of my tortured soul that can only be read and understood when viewed in a mirror’s reflection. It is in the mirrored writings I begin seeing my torments, begin comprehending my mind, a mind twisted beyond recognition, a mind languishing outside humanities definition of sanity.
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Rotting Souls Ooze Evil

Dear God, is there somebody out there?
Is there someone to hear my prayer?

~Midge Ure, Dear God

I have vacillated between the efficacy of prayer over the years from a child like faith to disdain for all religion, to devotion, to disinterest, yesterday to today. I have heard it said that the biggest detractor from people believing in a faith system is those who speak the words but act the opposite of those words. Hypocrites. The Christians that judge. The Muslims that hate. Catholics that call for Jihad on the Middle East. Any religion claiming to be based on love yet show by actions their love is a mirage.
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The Devil’s Fingerprints Are On My Soul

Dear God, sorry to disturb you
I feel I should be heard loud and clear
We all need a big reduction in the amount of tears
And all the people you made in your image
See them fighting in the streets
Cause the can’t make
Opinions meet about God
I can’t believe in you
And the Devil too

~XTC, Dear God

When I look a the pervasive evil consuming the world, I find it increasingly difficult to believe in a benevolent God, a loving deity. Politicians from all countries are calling for Jihad in God’s name. Mass murderers are killing because God whispered kill to some bigot in a dream. Betrayal of humanity increases based on singular interpretations in a book deemed holy.

Which holy book is the one to base a life upon when all have parallels and perpendiculars and non-sequiturs? Which, when all holy books have become launch pads for righteous indignation culminating in the genocidal extermination of innocents?
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