martes, diciembre 29, 2009

We trap God

Photo by @brianphone

We trap God,
hang Him
in stained glass,
entrance Him
by organ music
and chorus

We bind Him
by ritual,
tickle Him
by prayers
and train Him
to become our pet.

And we freely
make Him
take off
our guilt
of exploiting
too much,

Of having
too much,
of wasting
too much,
of living
too comfortably
Once the desert God,
and wild;
now an amulet
on a charm

—Yorifumi Yagucchi
  Sapporo, Japan.

Taken from the book "Living more with less" by Doris Janzen Longacre.

lunes, diciembre 28, 2009

Yet another blog of mine

As if I didn't have enough blogs...

Here comes Blogpil. Health pills from Honduras....

What happened with my abandoned blogs?

Well. This I abandoned for son long. But still, it can serve me as a metablog: for comenting my other blogs. The philosophical ones... I abandoned them because they don't pay. Philosophy is not profitable for me. These days I am more practical. I am comited to offer value to my readers. Who really cares about my stupid opinions? Everyone has an opinion. Opinions are cheap.

Anarchism, in my blog Contraeconomia doesn't pay off. I love utopias, but utopias are not practical.

Critique of atheism, in my blog Reason Prostituted, didn't pay me at all. But my Sangre de Cristo blog (Blood of Christ), is better. Lately I've been exploring the issue of metaphysical prayers.

My blog about promos and services of cellphone companies turned out to be very profitable. That one I'll keep up updating.

The one about Honduras, in English... I became lazy. It didn't pay much too.

My principal blog is now Nacer en Honduras. About various things of interest of Honduras...

domingo, diciembre 20, 2009

I won't forgive my father

Red Forman
Kurtwood Smith is Red in That '70s Show.
Photo taken from Wikimedia.

Being a good parent is not easy, but I had higher expectations from you, and you let me down.

I expected, as a son, words of wisdom and warm words of approval, affection and understanding. I craved to be understood, but you never understood me.

I thank you for all the material things you gave me, but material things are not enough.

You are a failure as a parent. Instead of words of wisdom you always tried to push your silly ideas in my head, you still keep trying to manipulate me in order to make me think exactly like you do.

But I guess the alcohol you drank when you were younger damaged your brain and temper. And I guess you were fucked up by your parents too, as I am by you. It's a pitiful loop of bad causes and effects. Insane people raising insane children, 'cause you didn't know how to do better, living in an insane world of greed and violence. Being out of touch with reality, out of fashion, living in the past.

But I guess I'm not the son you expected me to be.

We are imperfect and fucked up beings, living in an imperfect and fucked up world. We get hurt, and we hurt, in an endless loop. This is original sin. We fail to ourselves and we fail to others, and we need to forgive ourselves and others.

But I won't fall in the tramp of false forgiveness. For years I've been trying to forgive you, but the resentment is still in the same place, nothing changes, because with your behavior you keep those wounds still open and bleeding.

Instead of forgiving you I'd rather see things in a different perspective, to see the drama of our strained relationship from a third person perspective, without judging anything, from a quiet place of peace and tranquility, like watching a movie; then to bring the insights I had from that perspective in order to let go of all the resentment, and to release the pressure that resentment is putting, in that specific location in my body.


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