If a suicide bomber kills themself and a load of strangers;
1. How do they know they haven’t murdered a true believer?
2. If they murdered true believers, will they still go to the martyr’s heaven?
3. If they do still go to the martyr’s heaven, do they get less concubines for each true believer they murdered?
Enquiring minds want to know…
Category Archives: Writing
My first, longest, truest love – writing. Step inside and have a browse, leave a comment, praise or slate, it’s all good!
mediocrity
I have not yet sold my soul to the devil of mediocrity, for that is life’s first true sin.
straight talking Sky
7.15am – My 10 year old daughter Sky is helping me choose what shirt to wear to work. I ask her if the stripey ‘dennis-the-menace’ long-sleeve shirt with shoulder buttons on one side I am wearing makes me look camp. Sky contemplating looks me up and down and says in all seriousness, “Only if you were wearing glitter boots.”
letting go
Do visual religious artifacts automatically discriminate against those who are blind? Shouldn’t all religion be from the heart, therefore accessible to blind, deaf, dumb or crippled? Doesn’t the visual segregation caused by wearing what amounts to religious ‘gang symbols’ or ‘gang colours’ increase the segregation and differences we feel as humans? Shouldn’t everyone be allowed to interpret their love in different ways, wearing different clothes? Why should everyone pray the same way? Is that not the same as brainwashing? Mindless following ‘belief’ is not the basis for love, compassion, family and understanding, but of difference, fear, anger and hate. Why does anyone need to ‘follow’ anything? Is it not time for anarchy of thought and belief, to step into a void of chaos of self and vision from which either the truth can emerge, or freedom is obtained? Are we not shackled to all of our thoughts, feelings, hopes, dreams, beliefs, fears, angers, all forms, shapes and sizes of emotional or psychological strife? Is not ‘letting go’ the birth of true freedom? Should we not let go of everything we hold onto, all that we grasp, to come to understand the true meaning of life? Are we humans, to born to think and breathe on our feet, or are we sheep, to stand dumbly as others preach what we should dowearthinkseehearfeelunderstandlove? If all we do is even so much as listen, truly stand still and listen, to ourselves, each other, the world around us, we may hear the truth, life’s great secrets, being whispered softly on the night breeze. And if not? Well, the worst outcome is that we ‘wasted’ some moments to just ‘be’ in and of ourselves, momentarily letting go of all ‘things’, all grasping. This is true freedom. This is true love. This is true peace. Or at least a taste.
words drip like acid
Words drip
Like acid
On my eyeballs,
Burning me
To my very
Core, imprinting
Infinity, the
Neverending black-
Ness on my
Very soul,
Drip words.