Your face is dark and gloomy.
She is looking at my shadow?
My shadow is on my face?
Mercy from a woman?
Sounds pretty annoying.
What do you expect from a mere mortal male like me?
That is why I am still living
Maybe what is living is my shadow that
doesn’t search answers.
Is there any way to tear off my shadow
so as for me to live?
Still no answers
I am the real shadow of my shadow?
Cut the mindless crap!
A word of a careless woman makes you sink like this?
Because it’s from woman?
You are better than this
You enjoy being pinned under woman…
If you call your wife Goddess,
call that woman a goddess, then
your shadow and her shadow will overlap.
We must never glance at what is good in ourselves, much less ponder over it, but we should search out what is wrong and what is lacking. This is an excellent way of remaining humble. — St. Vincent de Paul
Wow! Jesus Christ!
Only look for what is wrong and what is lacking in ourselves?
How can any human survive this kind of esoteric behavior?
No wonder catholic saints are considered abnormal and/or crazy.
Vincent de Paul doesn’t look like an exception.
Even only looking for what is right in us and what we have wouldn’t be enough
To go through this mine fields of the world.
‘Humble’ is a beautiful word, but for mere mortals, survival is the first.
Nobody can endure his/her real figure and have a decent life.
That is why delusion is a must in our daily lives, isn’t it?
Trying to interpret de Paul’s words in a little bit sinister way,
He is saying we have to strive to become God, which is the same as the original sin.
God gazes at only what is good in us and won’t care about what is wrong in us.
Then why a mere human being like de Paul tries to destroy our already miserable lives
By let us stare into only our dark side?
This kind of teaching might be a conspiracy of the Catholic Church
trying to shackle laypeople to the so-called sin.
Well, Vincent de Paul himself could be a victim too.
Who am I who
Twists the words of a great saint and
criticizes the Catholic Church together?
It’s a dirty job but somebody’s got to do it.
What’s your favorite color?
Her question plunges me
in a swamp of despair.
I think I am color-blind.
I am struggling to catch at a straw.
What’s your favorite color?
Smiling a sweet smile,
she answers to me;
Some other times, yellow, green, brown, purple…
Once in a while, I like gray.
More often than not, I love black.
I realize she think she is color-blind too.
The straw saves my life like this.
I won’t look back at the swamp of despair.
Today, just like yesterday, another bullet
failed again to crush my life. My body was
rattled a bit but my mind was as calm as
the morning sun. Bullets failed to demolish
my life million times before. Dozing, I forgot
I was in a battle field where bullets will fail to
flatten my life tomorrow, just like today until
they go through and dissipate my life for good.
So smile at the desperate bullets and celebrate
just like a moron. I was born and will die in the
war zone while keep staring at the missing bullets
and expecting the next one to hit the target – me?
A bullet of destiny could hit you anytime, anywhere.
Then your life will be gone in a blink so life is no
big deal so don’t get too serious about anything.
Not sure this would be the right conclusion, but
this is the only sensible mind-set for now. Yeah.
I am learning from my pooch
To smell life piece by piece
My doggie sniffs at fallen leaves one by one
As if she were looking for the quintessential stuff
Of Autumn in the park strewn with dead bodies
Looks like she won’t leave the park
Until she finds the true scent of Autumn
If I did smell the life like her in my earlier days
I could’ve found the scent of my life already
And would’ve been enjoying IT
Just like I enjoyed a scent of a young pretty woman a few days ago
Right! I won’t leave the life
Until I find the true scent of my life
‘Cause I heard a rumor that it’s been emitting scent
Far sweeter and more delicious than the scent of Autumn
And even greater than the scent of that woman
“Do you want me?”
“You don’t have to write a pathetic poem like this. Just say so.”
I am distracted.
I need to learn more from my dog that is still sniffing
I’ve been standing in the marketplace since the early morning.
What was I doing?
Somebody came to me and said,
“Come and work in my vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.”
I was busy dreaming so I rejected that offer.
That man came to me several times during the day and
made the same offer but I rejected all.
I didn’t want to lose my sweet daydreaming.
You understand, don’t you?
When the day was closing to the end,
the man came to me again and said,
“This is the last time. Come and work in my vineyard, and
I will pay you whatever is right.”
I was tired of daydreaming all day so I accepted the offer but
I didn’t expect decent wage.
I was not not-so-decent good-for-nothing, wasn’t I?
How much could I work?
The day almost ended so I got nothing to lose.
It was already closing time when I think I worked about 10 minutes or so.
I was the man who was hired last so I was paid first.
I got surprised I was paid decent for my little work so I was kind of happy.
When I turned around to go home, I heard lots of grumblings.
I asked other workers what the complaints was about and found that
all workers were paid the same regardless how many hours they worked!
I fully understood the complaints of the other workers.
I was kind of uncomfortable so I went to the owner and asked,
“How come I was paid the same as others who worked a lot more than I?”
The owner frowned and said to me,
“Is that a problem? You don’t want to get paid because you worked very little?”
I blushed and answered,
“Well, I am ok. I just think you look unfair to other workers.
Why do you do this?”
The owner smiled and said,
“Why ask? Just enjoy your luck! This is none of your concern.”
Should I thank the owner?
Is this the proof that the owner loves me?
How about others who are less lucky than I?
Is that really none of my business?
Well, there’s nothing I can do.
I am not the owner of the vineyard.
It would be presumptuous for me to question the owner, wouldn’t it?
He can do whatever he wants to do, can’t he?
( I hope the owner would be a woman, but….)
The only thing you have is LUCK!
That’s what the life is all about……isn’t it?
A small river is blocking my way.
I could cross the river by swimming, but
since it’s hard,
I am waiting for a miracle that
would divide the river.
If the river is divided and
the water becomes walls and
the bottom of the river appears in between,
could you step into the river?
I don’t see any army chasing me.
There is no promised land across the river.
What comes in my sight is
a naked beauty lying on the small pasture.
Irresistible God’s temptation, isn’t it?