Tag Archives: life after death

Broken Pedestals

Don’t lose sight of the light.
I close both my eyes, but
Leave the third one open-wide.
Absorbing and Transforming,
Life is a canvas already been painted on; which color will you use to highlight the accents?
How many ways can I contrast the madness?
We are often too busy adding structure to the broken pedestals that once seated those you placed highly.
Deceived if depth can’t be seen without views of the horizon.
Still can’t hear me yelling – only seeing me naked.
This one really speaks to me…
Eye can’t teach them to listen.
Splatter paint like emotion wherever I go.
The world is my canvas. I create in the shadows.
Wash that mask, under that mask, beneath the skin.
Peel the flesh back like old pages.
This book is blank just like the canvas.
Invisible ink disguised as experience.
Squeeze the color out my veins, and witness the light ooze through pores.
Decorating the pews they are glued to.
Stained with the truth not illustrated on the glass.
Looking out the window is living in the past.
Breaking that window is living.
I’m breaking my silence how trees uproot sidewalks.
I belong in the street.
Driving myself crazy, playing hide-n-go-seek with self-identity.
Don’t be lazy.
Chasing my tears to the waterfall of my dreams.
Flowing…
Now I’m glowing..
I stay woke.

-Leighrick

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99 Problems and the Answer is 1

You know, sometimes I ask my self, “Why do I even bother?”.

I mean in all serious where does being a good person ever get you in life; besides a grave? In the end your spirit and soul is left feeling “substantial“so to speak, but how does one even know? How do I know that the bullshit I endure for the sake of other people is even beneficial? Now, don’t get me wrong I’m not looking for anything in return, but how much easier is it to be a good person now and die; than to die and become a good spirit?

Death, death is so often viewed as the dark side. As much as I am taunted, and taunt myself. I find that I cannot take the steps to even think of being selfish. However to you that may seem absurd.

I mean honestly, I venting about a situation in which dirt is being thrown on my name, by individual(s) who I’ve gone out my way to protect.

Yet, MY faith is QUESTIONED, because I do not seek the wisdom through the words of the bible? On the other hand, no questions are asked about priests who molest young children, and then go on to damn people to hell for being homosexuals?!?!?! How is one so sure that these words in the bible are those spoken from God? Himself? Herself?

I know, I already know you’re thinking “how dare [I] even throw that [her] in?”. I was told that the reassurance of those who believe in his words are recognized and strengthened through faith. Now if the fate of “man“, and the world’s being is rested upon faith, then why can’t I be equipped with the will, knowledge, love, wisdom and the strength of FAITH to trust my own intuition?  An intuition that is said to be “God given” and has proved me correct far more times than the bible.

There are no different versions of spirituality, faith, and ancestry, besides within the story of an individual; yet there are among hundreds and thousands of versions of the bible. GODS WORD. How many ways can God’s words be written and interpreted to be correct, beside the correct way in which he said himself?

Within self I find God[ess’]. Why limit myself to one? I often think about this, but I usually fall asleep and start my day before I can ponder on an answer.

I know I have gone completely off topic, but this entry is solely to vent.

Are you comprehending?

VENT because FRANKLY, I’m 2 years past through with being fucked over. Sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice, is all I’ve know. It’s what I’ve read, and heard, and taught myself because with all great things comes sacrifice. Or so its known to be,  and here I am dying. Still I some how find it unexpected?!

Fool me once, shame on you – Fool me twice, I’m the fool.

Since a child I’ve sat in this very same house inquiring about life, death, and life after death.  Wondering, after death is it possible that an ill soul can become well? If so I may start inching towards the darkness myself, because all this light I am in taking is so often blinding.

Ultimately, I have nothing to show for what I’ve done. I practice, and practice, and practice, and preach and teach, and think and sit and become enraged.  This  absolutely sickens me! It gives me headaches, produces tears I have to fight along with battling yelling so  loud that l I am deaf. Not having to hear anyone else bullshit, but stuck with my own internally?

Though I refuse, because already I am driven almost insane by my own questions.

Is that why I am so good with helping others? “Problem Solving”.

Would this be labeled neglect?

I just want to know why the “good people” are always fucked over. I mean honestly, who has a real answer to any of this? That’s where the frustration stems. ARE THERE REALLY EVEN ANY ANSWERS?!

WHAT IS THIS LIFE SHIT?!

Life long questions that pass throughout lifetimes are handed down to dwell on. This philosophy course isn’t doing a damn thing to help me understand spontaneous death.

I am really pissed right now.

You try believing you can talk to some people, you give em an inch and they take a mile, but distance isn’t the problem.

WHAT IS THE PROBLEM?!……[THE ANSWER.]

Fucking Shit.

Leighrick