If truth is something we create, then how do we know what’s real and what’s fake?
Can we really trust our own intuitions?
How do we know that we aren’t just a product of our culture’s superstitions?
Am I really creating what’s inside of me?
Or is this just another manipulation of society?
Mar 27, 2025
Mar 27, 2025 at 2:12 PM UTC
If truth is something we create, then how do we know what’s real and what’s fake?
Can we really trust our own intuitions, or are we just another product of our culture’s superstitions?
Am I really creating what’s inside of me, or is this just another manipulation of society?
Is it possible to stand on a universal truth that denies the existence of universal truths?
Jul 9, 2024
Jul 9, 2024 at 10:36 AM UTC
Like a kindled fire it smokes
Upon the wood it grows
With no ventilation it chokes
Turning thy friends to foes
From thy tongue in thy cheek the flames doth crack
With the empty words we billow
Tears of sap seep with each fiery snap
As we burn the weeping willow
Withdraw the wood from thy furnace
And if the charred remains ever smolder
Then inward thy glare must turneth
For these flames shall make thee ever colder
May 16, 2021
May 16, 2021 at 12:38 AM UTC
A midnight mutter, that indistinguishable sound
Garbled echos of prisoners bound
muffled cries held by chains of denial
Their mere presence that doth defile
To the extent of their chains, abruptly they stop
With nowhere to go, inevitably they drop
Without a sound upon the warden’s chest
Without weight, downward they press
Pressure builds, the constriction holds fast
Like shadow puppets upon the wall ‘tis cast
the heartbeat rhythm that now struggles to beat
The silence continues until the inevitable defeat
Oct 19, 2020
Oct 19, 2020 at 11:50 AM UTC
Intelligence is like a compass, in that it allows you to go a specific direction but is only useful in the context of the wilderness that you stand within. Without knowing where you are and where you need to go, a compass will only help you stay the course towards an unknown destination. Wisdom is the map upon which the compass lies. That which gives sustained direction the context it needs to ensure the intended destination is reached.
Sep 9, 2020
Sep 9, 2020 at 11:20 AM UTC
I recently had something astonishing happen to me during my time of morning the loss of my childhood dog. During a moment of intense grief I noticed that I was grieving in poetic verses, in a way I have never written poetry before. I quickly got up and tried to write down what came out of that moment, but as soon as I began to write, it was gone. It was at this moment that I realized that truly authentic poetry comes not from intense thought, but from documented experience in verse. I now realize that the skill of the poet is not in the ability to write, but in the ability to capture vivid experiences before they are whisked away by our cognitive faculties.
Jul 8, 2020
Jul 8, 2020 at 10:21 AM UTC
Must there be more to life than this?
If there’s no more than this
Then all we have are illusions of ignorant bliss
If there’s no more than this
Then all we know is existential loneliness
If there’s no more than this
Then how can we know we even exist?
Jun 25, 2020
Jun 25, 2020 at 8:06 PM UTC
Many people say that life is a race, and for many it is. But for those whom believe in Jesus' sacrifice for us know that Jesus already ran the race in our place and won. But the first place medal has been placed upon us instead so that our lives may no longer be a race, but a victory lap.
Jun 7, 2020
Jun 7, 2020 at 10:56 AM UTC
We all have two “selves”: the false self is the one that believes we belong to this world, the real self is the one that knows we do not.
Mar 27, 2020
Mar 27, 2020 at 4:05 PM UTC