Some walk on thin ice and I swim under it.
Do you see me through the glassy surface?
It sounds so silly and yet so horrifying.
Because you know that earth is dying.
And even the green people want more digitization.
This is the end of a nation.
While I just wanted to walk the earth, see the beauty and wonders I couldn’t have imagined.
But I only see blocks, inside and outside.
What do you see?
In my head I see endless spaces, endless gardens, endless rain forests, endless joy and peace.
And everything burns, while I stand there and freeze.
What have they done?! I ask.
And they just say: “We did as you said: Spread the word.”
And the word they spread… the word they spread.
Because they couldn’t see that I never meant it literal.
Those who see, know, that I am just a little coward, I guess, a little no one, but even a no one can change the course of everything.
There are so many voices who speak better than I do, but no one listens to them because they think they know better.
Or they are all scared because no one seemed to have cared.
Empty words they say, when it should be obvious to see the lies.
When freedom dies.
All those broken hearts, broken wills and dying souls out there.
Everyone was amazed and gave praise to God. They were filled with awe and said, “We have seen remarkable things today.”
After this, Jesus went out and saw a tax collector by the name of Levi sitting at his tax booth. “Follow me,” Jesus said to him, and Levi got up, left everything and followed him.
Then Levi held a great banquet for Jesus at his house, and a large crowd of tax collectors and others were eating with them.
But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law who belonged to their sect complained to his disciples, “Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?”
Jesus answered them, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.”
They said to him, “John’s disciples often fast and pray, and so do the disciples of the Pharisees, but yours go on eating and drinking.”
Jesus answered, “Can you make the friends of the bridegroom fast while he is with them? But the time will come when the bridegroom will be taken from them; in those days they will fast.”Luke 5 26-35 (NIV)
Today my father got to us again and asked whether he wrote his expression / letter of condolences correct, as he sometimes does because he only writes what others have said or what is okay. It is so formal and from “above” that my mother got angry. He couldn’t come up with one thing out of his heart, probably because it is empty or filled with hatred.
They argued and fought about these few words because my mother (obviously) couldn’t understand why he always asks and doesn’t write what he really feels. Maybe it explains a lot for someone who might not feel anything but pain because he only follows others. My father even asked whether the woman who died was catholic or evangelic (as if that would have mattered). When my mother than really got angry at him and I also said things, he called names of some preachers and said things they have said. And said that he wouldn’t go to the cemetery if it would be catholic. Then I told him that I would even go to a Muslim funeral or no matter what they believed in or were related to. Then he left, leaving my mother shattered and powerless, while the day actually started not that bad – and I got also angry.
This man, my father, he still doesn’t understand that he is one of the Pharisees.
Calling me out as a sinner and evil one, yes he might be true, he got me going this way because he hated me so much, that I wouldn’t have survived if I wouldn’t have become evil to break myself. (Paradox, I know.)
He always plays this kind and nice guy and when you say one wrong word he calls you the devil, even if he doesn’t use the word, you know he means it. He even sometimes said that we are surrounded by evil spirits and are far away from the path or whatever bullshit.
And you know, I am not religious. You know that Jesus also wasn’t.
And who ever I am in your eyes, I am just a guy called John.
Ironically my father said to me that I shall make my name proud, while he spits on it, not knowing what he says.
After this incident with my father, I said to my mother that I would go to whatever funeral, if I would go to any (I usually don’t go anywhere and stay at home). And she also had said to my father that he forgets the people. They are or were all people like us, no matter where they were from or what they did or believed in. And he… he wouldn’t go there because of the religion…….
I said to my mother that going to the funeral of your enemy is honorable, going to anyone’s funeral would be.
In case you might misunderstand. For me it would mean that I would be sad that they would be gone and maybe died without seeing the love I could have given them. Even though I am just a little crazy idiot who often makes mistakes, is confused, terrified, says this and does that. But I wouldn’t have become this way, if I wouldn’t have seen what others also saw. If people would have actually showed the love for one another, instead of these empty words, like my father did. Following people who “speak good”.
I think people forgot, that Jesus had no religion.
I think people forget, that he also could get harsh or loud when facing injustice, but also had logic and a sense for people.
When I say, that I don’t believe in God, then I say it not because I think that there is nothing, I say it because I don’t have to believe, I know that there is more, so much more. And those who want to get it so badly, will maybe never get it, while those who are at the bottom, they deserve it because they have suffered enough.
I call it love. And may there be a being called God or not, I know that without caring for each other, anyone can make themselves a God or call themselves the hero, healer or freedom fighter, only to take everything for themselves “as well earned”.
My father has read in his bible many times and still not understood.
I heard some of the stories, read some of it and know enough about how wrong everything is.
My father blames the sinner for the sin and holds up those who give him money and good words and tell their stories so he feels good about judging me and my mother. My mother was treated like shit most of her life. Didn’t get much love in her family, was often the outcast and he should have been thankful for getting her. Instead he pushed her down with everything he could until she gave up on herself. He made me feel like shit, calling me the problem. Instead of being thankful that he had a healthy, intelligent, optimistic, wonderful son. While the doctors thought I could be disabled because of the age of my mother and what was considered the norm. Even the doctors saw that I was different in a good way, even they were inspired by my behavior and all my father could do was breaking me.
He wanted me to be broken, so he could feel good about himself.
I don’t know where he is with his thoughts, but he isn’t alive. Not in that sense.