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the first step toward goodness is cleaning your house. the second is cleaning your body. the third is cleaning your mind. the final step is to clean others and the world, by which you clean your own soul.
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ain't it damned how love bleeds out in the wind of all words and oblivion. it is no small thing, this little-ing amongst the clustered claustrophobes and the heart's infinite cloistering. always the phantom ink is murmuring. the verse uniting our bones underlines a silence in each scene overflowing. the symbols signal me toward home again but my mind jumps high and i float right over it.
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we've got our god-mode stuck on auto-pilot because most of us are too scared and small to fly that baby in manual mode.
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wisdom turns to shit when spoken through the lips of a hypocrite.
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my whole life has been too afraid to lean in, and so i stay out, coddling my pathetic self on the periphery of doubt. love spills out of me even jealously, and these hungry ghosts are so hot, but like, hellishly. and i am drowning in the haunt of all the things i never got to be.
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these problems have flooded our minds with the desperate pretense of needing solving, and yet their true solution lies in the dissolving.
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god is the soul's perfect mirror whose reflection we deny, though the truth of it is clear as everything we see.
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would but you could see ego is only a futile dam, a brick lodged within the lungs of god, where the Loving breath yet streams endlessly around the husk of your pain until worn and weary, the stone even the almighty couldn't lift cracks open like a seed birthing the soul surrendered to the flow of glory.
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am i willing to burn for it? is it possible we just don't know any better, that we suffer a twisted logic under the knowledge of good and evil? tell me, what loving father of heavenly power would ever allow any ignorant child to cast themselves into the fire? is it against his will that the screams of hell flower? and then by dark foolishness is the light of wisdom overpowered? what a weak god our mind's fear imagines with terrible terror. but ain't that the foundational sin of it, the essential error? missed the mark of your judgment in who Love was and what He is capable of and how He would become the very Fire you feared you needed saving from. for you are not scared to be burned to death, but to be ignited by Life out of the death you are and deny.
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but how does one engage meaningfully as a creature and with creatures who chronically misunderstand their own meaning?
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