The Framed 1’s Life

Dear Lord, accept this candle lit,
This soul and mind, spirit be fit
And enter your home, true divine,
To dine, face fate, with glorious wine!
I pray accept my humble gifts
Of works done, tears, and paeans swift;
I pray my life be melted wax
Than silenced by Air’s Karmic Tax.

I’m a theistic existentialist. Yet a nihilist in the presence of a God. But completely not.

This is Kristianity.

It is in the belief of choice – the choice to choose nirvana or lustful pleasures. It is to know the nature of pain yet to accept it as a passing thought. It is to be a Jainist and absorb one’s karmic pasts but is to embrace the Taoist affirmative negation on reality. It is to be as a barn on a summer day but to capture each thought on a net like a fisherman’s.

Little doubt, little enlightenment
No doubt, no enlightenment
Many doubt, many enlightenment.

To be a Kristian, you have to accept that you are a Solipsist. You create your own reality. You choose to see what you want to see. But everything has its roots from the past, but your current position is always a new phenomenon, whose connection with the latter is but a set of circumstances that occurred.

And it is to accept and embrace the teachings of the world.

You always create your own reality. Always. You choose to see what you want to see.

Its 4 AM. I’m drunk and listening to Scarborough Faire endlessly.

Parsely, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme.

After watching Sam Peckinpah’s Strawdogs, drunk as it is, I decided to play the drunk.

Then she’ll be a true love of mine

That’s when an ad hoc soul searching commenced.

Parsely, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme.

And I dare ripped my gut out to a priestess on the spot

Then she’ll be a true love of mine

Confessing that I am lost

Parsely, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme.

Knowing not where to go

Then she’ll be a true love of mine

I can see them all

Parsely, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme.

But I’m still lost

Then she’ll be a true love of mine

So I decided to download Kazaa

Parsely, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme.

And listen to another version of the song

Then she’ll be a true love of mine

Parsely, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme.

I’m still drunk.

Then she’ll be a true love of mine

And wishing to be back in my islands.

Parsely, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme.

But all I have are the ifs. Like the song’s.

Then she’ll be a true love of mine