3.6 KiB
22-DEC-2023
Brain dump
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Haven't talked to Jordan in a while
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When is he getting ordained?
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Need to mail the stuff for samaritan
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Need to frame the township map
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Should've got mom some chocolate for christmas (still can I guess)
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Unsure what if anything to get grandpa - SCASC? By Hand and Eye?
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How to I approach the family about confession?
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What is next? I am unbooked. I am angsty.
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Need to 'get right'
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What about Jess? Do I abandon? What more must I know - or do?
I am sad. Sadness of God vs. Sadness of Death
- Sorrow for having offended God - this is a friend, foundation of Joy - leads to conversion
- Sadness of the world
- Sadness over another person's good is Envy
- Sloth (Acedia): Not caring; sullenness, discouragement, scrupulosity
- The Eigth Deadly Sin: Sadness
And am sad for the state of things in this world. Is this worldy sadness or is this sorrow?
I feel as though I have wasted time And in ways i have I feel strange and out of place here But this is home But i am not acting as such I am continuing the same sins run from the sins not the world
Why sit behind a computer and complain, etc. when there's a whole world out there that you could be playing with?
Don't assume your family is so mean. Assume they are good. Or at least act like it.
A Poem
Man, falling Regretful, despairing Shunned the Father's love Barred from Above To the pit he sinks down Pursuing a false crown
Ebonized Oak! Gold-Painted Foamcore! Fallacious Fraternity! Pleasure Galore!
A semblance of what he once knew And yet the meat is hard to chew So he gets on the grind He takes to the mine Groveling, exhausting folly To both the ground and his body
Synthetic Sausage! Mineral Wax! Corrugated Chipboard! Castrated Flax!
Til the oil erupts Filling his cup But do the mines run forever? Do they sustain his endeavors? His days less than grass Verily, they don't last
Extractive Economy! Bottled Labor! Antisexual Life! Unearned Favor!
To heaven, does he turn? Will he at long last learn? Nay! To the mines! For a cure can be found! He settles himself there - earthily bound. From earth's womb he is born And stands forlorn
Self-Made Man! Worriless Pimp! Liberated Harlot! King with a Limp!
His works were mighty - lofty - grand Of a different basis than that heavenly land Whose power was solar, carbonic at that The vision of man was surprisingly flat Form follows function in modules black Armor plating to withstand all attack
Linear Intelligence! Photovoltaic Ecology! Pasteurized Ponds! Mechanized Polity!
They lived lives extravagant Their work was to gallavant Until their time was up They soaked up and up At first with mouth and spoons And on their deathbeds, arms full of tubes.
Corn-Fed Cowboys! Ungenerative Fetishists! Do-Nothing Conquerors! Intubated Tyrants!
And when some grew weary of parallel line (While the rest thought them perfectly fine) He grasped at thin air - at the chaos-filled breeze And fired up his grinder to make sculptures with ease His forms were barbaric, or perhaps even worse Suggesting his freedom were truly a curse
Smooth-Flowing Entropy! Art Deco Cars! Jagged Streams! Zero-Pointed Stars!
When he dig just a little Through the topsoil, grown brittle A familiar impression Cause for depression Forgotten, battered And yet, not shattered
Terrible beauty! Divine heuristics! Holistic function! Benevolent mystics!
That heavenly radiance undergird all: The mines - the cities - and even the fall A foundation rejected but never removed Only painted over, her rough spots smoothed And what did man do then, what did he erase? What do we build - us natives of this place?