Day 42; The Curtain is Closed and the Act is Over

Not to worry! I think it's just a sprain from moving my hand wrong playing tennis. No biggie. Also if I'm totally off on my posting for the next week or two. My computer has a virus. So whenever I'm posting I have to ask my sister for her laptop. Will fix computer ASAP.


The useless acts repeat and repeat like the the tides on the beach, they increased, they decreased and sometimes destroy things in their way. Acts and acts, how easily we can become actors of our own lives, acting it instead of living it. Acting out our beliefs our emotions and every single last detail. We like pretending we have a script, easily read and memorized and immediately perfect. Every word finely tuned to express the deepest of emotions, emotions emotions, but not any of ours. We like to show we are perfect, no flaws, no small imperfections. Actors with a thick paste of makeup who won't show their skin, skin, capillaries, veins, organs, won't show their skin much less anything deeper.


Cover cover cover and hide and who knows why. We wrap a shroud around us made of silk and fine patterns, they encircle and envelop us and drown us in their fluttering waters.


I said I was great, I was very catholic and with that claimed rights as if somehow that made me better and right. Thoughts slithered in my head like deadly cobra snakes and judgements came and went endlessly. Who knows how many stings they encountered, how many were poisoned by my own incomprehension, how many hurt and dragged?


Yet, catholic, catholic, my acts were no more than hypocrisies to my own religion. I was belief and then not depending on who the audience was to be. Their longing faces seemed to eat my soul away and at once, at twice, at eternities, I was gone.


The curtain is closed, the act is over.


Here is the reality, here is the truth. I am catholic and I shall live by it come rain or pain come whatever may come. Here I sit and here I stand and here a clutch tightly to this. There will be no more acting. My heart is shattered but this time it's not by others. It shatters and shatters and at the same time it melts and unifies.


Religion can become an eternal pride that sends us up skyrocketing, but that is never true religion, that is never true faith.

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Taken on April 7, 2009