The Great Devastation

Dear the One,

For so many years, I will only feel free and experienced in your way when I am with someone else or in another term, not alone. When I am alone, as if I am the only one exist, I tend to challenge although intellectually I know I couldn’t. But sometimes, the consciousness has been fruitful but the outcome is not obvious. I know that I am saved, but I chose to walk back the time and willing to forsake you for the sake of pleasure. I wouldn’t say that the feeling of being saved lasted for long but only one year, and I think I have the wrong strategy to possess and utilize the Good News. People around are as liberal as they seem to be and as filthy as they are. They look so perfect in their own corrupted and succeeded and spectacularly flawless. I wouldn’t pray that I will be like them, but at least, get rid of my own problem Books and words have spoke to me that this problem will never be solved as it is an everlasting journey. Actually, I comprehend this very well. But a single step and few minutes will ruin my feeling and bring my mental and light into spasm. They died down. I am as an entertainer, by no means, helping people, though, sometimes not effectively but tend to let the yesteryear nightmare haunt me down into everlasting burning fire. Every time, after I repeated the same old mistake, I come to you and in the evening, I felt as if I am cleansed. Nevertheless, what lay in front is uncertainty and I tend to compromise and procrastinate and the whole process repeated itself again. No one cares about and in my heart; faith is like something you do alone, which is strictly false. But.. What can I do?

Pages and faces reveal only the best side of it and the flaw remains as dirty little secret. And in this age, the dirty little secret have been transformed into topics that are healthy and beneficial. Is it the true or just another blasphemy from human origin? I can’t be certain and confirmative that I will not bring myself in such stupid valley, but I think I’ll try. Try to make everything and welcoming, instead of judging things and criticizing people.

Pieces of purity have shed off and what is left? A dark and poisonous metal furnished by mankind’s glitter.

1.

It has been a long while since I last love people; I mean generally, not the type of romantic love. After deciding to live in my life the fullest and somehow be a good guy, there is this pure heart and emotion for some period of time. As time goes by, all these rules have become stereotype and everything is dramatized exaggeratedly. I treat thing in a proud sight and that makes my whole being worse than ever, and that the point where downturn happened.

Sometimes, I tried to be the type of person that people intended and I lost my whole genuine morality. No authenticity inside me but just another mould that is shaped by people opinion. Layers by layers of me are being shed and torn off. Mostly, it is due to pride and inability to stay normal, or maybe the lack of accountability

Accountability.

As naïve as it may sound, we are lack of it. Suppose it is due to my inner-retrospective perspective that transforms me into such jerk, that the inside is loosely bounded to the outside. I keep doing the whole buck of nonsense, trying to lose my life and waste my time, and yet surrounding me are seemingly-perfect people. That makes me feel even guiltier. Nevertheless, in the life plan of every person, there is wound, and remains undetected. The potential wound of disaster that will spoil the whole being.

Many people may be studying now, tying to eat their book in their ways. But the more I read and study, the more vulnerable and sophisticated I get. I get anxious easily for nothing. No concrete support for my own behavior or intended attitude but only a believing and faithful spirit that sometimes seems to be far away from me. After suffering for all the excess contamination, when shall ever be a new person? When shall I be transfigured again? I am tired of all this activities, meaningless and immoral. It is like acid pour on me bit my bit and I am not able to scream. It constricts and traps my personality in this empty bombshell. I have no way but to exert the pressure in some everlasting pain.

When will everything be restored to its originality, genuineness, authenticity and godliness? Whereby everything will be as transparent, as innocent and as naïve as it may look, like a newborn baby, wrapped in swaddling linen, lying on the warm manger. As graceful as it looks.