Merry Christmas

We did the normal In-Law Christmas thing.  But I have to work day after, so back home I go.  That is the only part of Christmas that sucked this year.  Those of you who know me know that might be a double entendre half joke about a present I didn’t get this year.

There were presents and family gatherings and now I drive home alone while the rest of the family finishes whatever festivities they finish.  It wasn’t a terrible Christmas, although it still felt a little like socks and underwear.  There was clothing, including (damn it!) a PAIR OF PANTS.  I swear I am not making that up.  And there are times when I wish God did NOT read this blog, especially when the joke is on me.  I admit, it’s kind of funny.  At least there wasn’t underwear or socks.

I hope you didn’t have to work on Christmas, and I hope your Christmas didn’t suck.  And even though I have to work tomorrow, at least I got off on Christmas day.  Which might be another double entendre half-joke about a present I might have gotten this year.

Whether your Christmas sucked or not, whether you got what you wanted or needed, I hope your New Year is full of blessings and bloggings and friends when you want them and solitude when you need it.  I stole 5 minutes of solitude to write this because I needed it.  And now, to pack and go back home.

 

 

Advertisements

Christmas is Supposed to Inspire…

We interrupt this advertisement of indignantly joyous strength, self-reliance, and independence, supposedly available to humanity, for an awkward reality check.

Yeah, this is going to probably become an annual thing because as much as I wish life made me a stronger better human being, the harder I try the more I see the truth, that I suck at the self-reliance, self-determination, grab-life-by-the-balls-and-make-it-give-me-what-I-want lifestyle.  Or, maybe there are those exceptional few who seem to be fortunate and get what they want, and the rest of us have dreams in our souls and shit in our hands.  And while one reader worries about my compulsivity, all I can say is, thank God for soap.

I could detour here and comment about how gender-insensitive the above was toward life, because who’s to say life is a guy, but if it was and if you were that guy, how would you feel about it?

It doesn’t mean I’ll give up praying for miraculous intervention, but rather it means that in my recent experience I haven’t seen my prayer requests answered with a resounding “yes.”  A soft one, sure, I have to say:  there’s a roof over our heads, it’s just that the lease payment hasn’t been made yet and they’ve already called to gently remind us.  Yeah, thanks, bankers.  And we have utilities, like trash pickup, but they’re calling and gently threatening to leave us to rot in our own trash pile.  Yeah, thanks for letting us know. You’ll get your money after we get paid Friday.  And we have food on the table, for which I am extremely grateful, it’s just that a large percentage of that is coming from a local ministry’s pantry.  Thanks very much.

It’s like getting underwear for Christmas.  It’s what I need, and it’s enough, barely, and I am grateful because there are a lot of people who have a lot less, and need a lot more, and probably live in a lot more anxiety.  I almost have what I need, but I’d really rather have a sense of security, the ability to pay for what I need for myself, the ability to pay our realistic living expenses with what I earn, and the ability to buy my own underwear, so maybe for Christmas I’d like to open a box with a new laptop computer someone got me because I didn’t need underwear (because I need a new laptop this year, but I don’t have much faith in that event.  It could happen and I hold out a little hope still because I haven’t opened all the boxes that aren’t under the Christmas tree yet).  I was going to say “pants,” but I don’t want God to tease me by having someone actually give me pants.  He has a sense of humor and if I said it and He provided pants the joke would be on me.

What if I really needed underwear and begrudged when it came?  How would that make the gift-giver feel?  I can hear me now.  “Oh.  Underwear.  Thanks, it’s just what I wanted.”  I think that’s a 5 to 7 year-old’s thought about getting clothes.  They take it for granted that they will have clothes to wear, so a gift of clothes isn’t maybe their idea of a good gift.

My idea of a good gift is a million dollars a year for the next hundred years, transferrable to my kids after I’m dead.  I have so many first world things, that I have a matching number of first world problems.  My laptop battery isn’t holding a charge, so I’m tethered to the wall.  Not that I don’t prefer it, but that the lurking lack of mobility and waiting for the next thing to fail are hanging over my head adding to my insecurity.  I’m saying, the gift (and it IS a gift) of connectivity is not something I can take for granted.  My car is rusty, prone to leaks in the rain, the check engine light is on and I’m in need of new tires to feel safe if I have to drive in rain or snow. But I have a car and it runs.  As mentioned before, the bank called to remind us not to forget them this Christmas, and so did the trash truck driver and his support staff.  But it’s Christmas, so I’d like to go get something nice for my wife and kids to open on Christmas morning (NOT underwear!)  And it’d be nice to be able to give gifts to family and friends.  But after bills are paid, a little later than I’d like, there’s not a whole lot left to spread around.

I’m thankful for underwear, literally and proverbially.  It’s warming, protecting, and supporting, which is what I need in life.  I’m thankful for people in my life who have provided that warmth, protection and support.  And I’m not going to offend these kind souls.

I do have a gift to share, so I’m going to share it.  I have the gift of Christmas itself.  Say what you want about the origins and history of Christmas as a dated holiday, about the commercialization of the date, about when Jesus’ actual birth date might have been, but Christmas as a religious holiday is a celebration of God’s gift to us.

I’ve been reading in Romans, and the earlier chapters are all about how and why we need a savior.  Our heritage won’t save us, our culture can’t save us, our race won’t save us, our family tree won’t save us.  Obeying the law won’t save us.  Being “a good person” won’t save us.  Paul was talking about eternal salvation, not temporal.  At the very end of Romans, Paul talks about his travel plans- he wants to visit with the Christ-followers in Rome, on his way to Spain.  But then Paul was arrested on trumped up charges and ends up going to Rome under arrest, and later, being executed.  Some travel plan.  It proved my point that the salvation Paul was talking about is not necessarily going to lead, in this life, to a life of ease and comfort.  He was in prison, falsely accused, and headed for beheading.  And I’m worried about a car breakdown?

In the middle of Romans, Paul reaches a point where he’s established that we can’t save ourselves.  And then he lets it out, after teasing us a bit with hints.  It’s only 16 chapters.  I recommend reading it all.  He finally says it- Those who are in Christ are not under condemnation.  By “condemnation,” he means, under a sentence of punishment to come in eternity.  And then in later chapters he talks about how Christ-followers can live in ways that prove their faith, and show the world without all the preaching, that it’s real.  I think many professing Christ-followers would do well to read it through, because there are even two chapters about how we Christ followers should get along with each other!

I LOVE that he acknowledges that even after we become Christ-followers, we still are human and need to remember we have to work to get along with each other.  There are still problems and conflicts.  But it’s not completely hopeless.

The gift I’m sharing is a gift lots of people  have heard about already, and you can say what you want about proverbial underwear.  You can say you’ve got your own already, and you can believe you’ll be fine in eternity.  I have to ask you to give some thought to the origins of that belief.  Were you taught it by a parent, a teacher?  Did you think it up for yourself?  Are you trusting that someone else was right?  Are you trusting that you are right?  Are you sure about all that?  Have you ever READ the book of Romans?  If you aren’t sure, the box of Romans, in lovely gift wrap, has those eternal underwear inside waiting for you.

Emasculation ≠ Gender Equality

Back in the very dark ages of the gender wars, say, before 1920, women were quietly and submissively hoping for a better world.  Married women, at least my wife, if she’s an example, know how to quietly and submissively demonstrate how women can live in a marriage.  But they (if my wife is an example) don’t do that.  Instead, they exert a very powerful influence over men (if I am an example).  Don’t go calling me “whipped.”

I heard that!! What the hell did I just say?  HEY!!  STOP LAUGHING!

OK, maybe I’m a little “whipped.”  Shut up.  It means I’m 26 years ahead of my time in the gender struggle.  Or maybe it means I’m not rich or famous enough for anyone to bother accusing of harassment.  It’s not because I’m not annoying enough, but at least I know that.

Although I’m not rich or famous enough to bother with, the question arises, when does flirtation become harassment?  Where’s the line?  As a blogger, when I become a rich, famous novelist, will I be found guilty of harassment for something or some things I’ve written in my blog that are only much later, say, 40 years, after the gender wars have progressed even further, be determined as “inappropriate,” or “harassment?”  I won’t know unless a fellow blogger, or one of my two (maybe three) faithful readers tell me.  What if there’s only one comment I’ve made on a random blog somewhere and I’ve forgotten about it, and no one ever told me they were offended?  When will I be informed of the offense?  Could I be alerted of getting close to crossing that very ambiguous line sometime before I cross it?  Or will the flirtation be returned, such that I think it’s OK until it’s too late?  Or maybe a more pertinent question would be, how much money do I have to have to be worth suing, or accusing?

It’s a cynical line of questioning.

I want to believe the claims because many times, men cross the more obvious lines.  A woman is taken in by his wealth, power, and charming personality, drawn in by the promise of possible opportunity, career advancement, being treated nicely, or whatever else a lady may need of a non-sexual nature from a man.  And a man, being either creepy or completely stupid, is looking for whatever a man may want from a woman, and blunders in thoughtlessly or deliberately.  A woman who wants a career opportunity and may be looking for a good professional reference tries to make friends, and does the normal social and professional things, and the guy is all grope-y, or that and worse.  And then he may or may not offer those opportunities to the lady, based on things going farther than social or professional.  Because I know guys can be creepy, I want to believe.

But I’m sorry, I’m cynical.  I ask the questions.  Was she flirting back?  What were her physical and verbal cues?  How was she presenting herself?  Where are the lines of demarcation for when a woman progresses from social and professional to something more?  How are clueless men (and most are) to interpret a woman’s intentions in the minefield of modern gender warfare?  Is she interested in more than social interaction, but waiting for him to “make the first move?”  Was there an interest back then that went beyond mere social or professional goals, and now years later, with social or political or monetary aims, the interest is being denied?

What I’ve learned from dog training applies here, not that I’d imply that men are dogs.  (read in my sotto voce whisper:  MEN ARE LIKE DOGS!  AND SOME ARE DOGS!)  Any self-respecting dog trainer will tell you that the time to intervene to prevent a dog from acting on his or her impulse, is before they start acting.  So before he lunges, charges and bites the neighbor kid, or snacks on the neighbor’s pet, an owner should distract and divert to a different behavior or give a verbal command, and give a reward for obedience.  Cesar Millan, the “dog whisperer” says dog aggression may not be intended as aggression, but instead is curiosity and excitement.  The same is true for a normal man.  Even though I’m married, if a woman wants to talk to me, I am curious and excited.  If a woman flirts in response to my flirtation, my curiosity and excitement will grow.

If I weren’t so very married, I might lose control of my impulses at some point, and I often wonder what that point is for me, but I don’t want to learn it.  Guys are behaviorally similar to their best friends, but if there’s redirection or correction before things get out of control, I think many of those unfortunate biting episodes could be prevented.  Cesar goes on to say that aggression may be triggered by fear, insecurity, anxiety, frustration, and lack of proper socialization.

Don’t be fooled by the guy’s veneer.  We’re pretending to be stronger than we are.  We’re acting calm, but on the inside we’re close to panic or desperation.  We’re motivated by lack of proper socialization, too.  Show a guy a curvy work of art, and he’s helpless.  He wants to study that work of art, by whatever sensory means possible.  He’ll stare, he’ll sniff, he’ll touch if given the opportunity.  Et cetera.  I’m still studying my wife, and damn! She’s still fascinating after all these years!  Thank GOD I’m married, or in the modern minefield of gender warfare, I’d be a different kind of animal.  I mean man.  I mean person.

I believe the line has to be defined, and then respected, by us guys.  It’s our fault if we do something wrong, and we damned well should know the difference between what’s OK and what’s not.  I know there are women who lead men on, but because I’m a guy I’ll go out on record and say if a guy goes too far, it’s his own damned fault.  Not hers.  But I do understand how guys might feel some confusion on the line of acceptable behavior.

When Jesus gave the simplified commandments, He said the first commandment was to love God, and the second was to love your neighbor as yourself.  We guys have to love our neighbors as ourselves, and learn to treat people with that in mind.  Would we love it if girls ogled us or groped us?  Oh, shit.  Nevermind that line of reasoning.  But we need to think about how our behavior will make our “neighbor” feel, and we want to make them feel loved, respected and appreciated, not objectified, hurt, or taken for granted.  Just as we men want women to make us feel.

When my mother read about gender roles in the Bible, teaching me, she read that thing about women submitting, and then went on to read that thing about how a man should love his wife to death, like Jesus loved the church (See Ephesians 5).  Jesus “loved the church, and gave Himself up for her.”  When my pastor shared Ephesians 5 with us in counseling before we got married, he said “it is the wife’s duty to respect her husband, but it is the husband’s duty to be worthy of her respect.”

I try, but I’m not very good at it very often.

My mother-in-law, (God rest her soul (please)), used to make little jokes about me getting castrated.  “Snip, snip.”  Or whatever.  It came to a point I asked Mrs. M. to ask her to stop.

And this is the point I’m trying to make:  There is a point in the gender war where men aren’t just discouraged from being manly.  Society, not understanding there’s a time to stop, goes past pressing the advantages and advances women have made in society, goes too far, and men are neutered.  Men are expected to not act like men.  Well, when a dog is told not to bark or growl, biting is the next dog-like behavior, so they resort to that.  At what point, in telling men to not act like men, does a man resort to another male behavior?

If I haven’t gone on record yet, although I think I have, let me do so now:

I firmly believe that any man who rapes or beats a woman should have a fitting punishment as a consequence, to insure they learn the behavior is unacceptable and to insure they don’t exhibit that behavior ever again.

That being said, I am against the modern trend of social castration.  My mother-in-law hinted at this trend, three generations ago.  My wife often demonstrates a great understanding of having learned from her, and when she does, I fucking hate it, despite my deep love for her.  Men shouldn’t be expected or taught to act like women.  We aren’t women.  We don’t need to be taught how to act like we aren’t men, with masculine traits, masculine thoughts, masculine drives and masculine wants.  Instead, we need to be taught how to be better men.  We need to be taught impulse control.  We need to be taught proper boundaries and proper approaches to proxemics.

Glance at the curves for a half a second, but don’t be hypnotized!  Look away!  Her eyes are attractive too.

A Lesson for Guys in Poem Form:

Study words from her lips,
not the sway of her hips,
Notice hair, what she says,
don’t stare at her legs,
No matter what your brain says,
Never presume she means “yes,”
If you’re married, keep her,
Stir her heart with ardor,
Men, always keep your wits,
no matter how cute she is.

I know what you thought that last line would say.  And you’re right.  Everything women are, that’s different than what men are, is amazing, beautiful, charming, delightful, and exciting.  But the differences aren’t just skin-deep.    Guys, learn what’s ticking in her brain before you try to learn anything more, attraction notwithstanding.  There’s more to relationships than just sex.  What do you do after that?  What do you do before that?  What do you do instead of that?

Ladies, give us a clue before screaming to castrate us.

Guys, unless she marries you, it’s a minefield.  Tread cautiously.  And if you’re rich, get a prenuptial agreement before those nuptials.

It’s the Little Things

Yeah, I’ve got things to be thankful for even as I had to prepare to work today.  Yippee.  The Friday after Thanksgiving, I should be sleeping off Triptophan and whiskey while Mrs M spends money I don’t have on things I don’t want for Christmas “because they’re on sale.”  I’ve got a garage full of things and I can’t fit my car in there, but yesterday I ran across bath toys my kids haven’t used in …10 years?  Does that make them “vintage,” so I can sell them on e-bay and make my millions?  I fear not.

The little things, I’m thankful for them and despite being depressed in general about life events and being barely afloat unless I decide to fix my teeth and set myself back a few thousand, or until one of the cars breaks again (and sets me back a few thousand more).  I say “more,” because we really got drive-shafted last time I tried to keep my old car running relatively safely.  It was a “classic,” a vintage model POS.  You know the type, they cost a ton and the check engine light pops on right after you get it home from the mechanic, or “the razzafrazz chiklitzerings need replacing or it won’t be safe to drive.  It’s pretty urgent.  Those things could break any time, and you could be stranded on the side of the road, and you don’t want that.”  Or the tires spin on 1/16″ of water so God forbid it should snow.  The car shop “fixed” the car once, and it broke down almost immediately and we paid them to “fix” it again, whereupon it broke down a third time, and we declined their services and traded for another used POS.  And we get what you get when you trade one POS for another:  another person’s problems became our problems.  I’m currently driving a newer model POS, so I’m thankful for it, despite the need for two new tires, and the damned check engine light being on, and the back doors randomly locking, and the window motor being broken so unless I keep vigilantly pulling the damned window up MANUALLY it leaks.  I put one palm on the outside, the other palm on the inside, and give the thing an upward jerk (fml, I’m an upward jerk!).  Anyway, the car before the other old car was a REAL POS, and we wasted going into serious debt before realizing the auto repair people were racketeers and we were never going to get the thing working well enough, so we cut our losses a few thousand too late.

We try to be trusting.  But we learned, I hope.  It’s just, we’re STILL trying to dig our way out, and actual cost of living has nothing to do with income, and merit raises have nothing to do with actual merit at my company.  There’s a list of repairs on the cars to be made, my wife drives a POS brand Minivan that has rusted to the point a jack won’t raise it from the side to change a tire.  It broke through the rust last time I tried, in a few places.  It’s possible a board on top of the jack would distribute the weight better among the rusted spots, but I’m not holding my breath.  If she gets a flat out on the road, I fear we’re screwed and it has to be towed somewhere.  Plus, the jack is too tall to accommodate a board and still fit under when the tire is flat and the car is lower.  Yay, car fun.

If I weren’t so blessed I wouldn’t have these first world problems to deal with.  God provides a minimum.  We can afford a little less than the rest of what I believe we need, which I chafe at thinking that I don’t need what I think I need.  There was a generous shot of whiskey, sufficient to make yesterday’s celebration that much more festive for me, and I am grateful.  The good people at a local church have provided us with some food, I am grateful.  Insurance has been granted for another year for our daughter, so I am grateful, as she uses a number of medications and is hopefully learning from a counselor that provides.  Our cars are running, in the style of Penny’s from Big Bang Theory, that is to say, with the check engine lights on.  And we were provided a car for our daughter somewhat miraculously, when it was time for that.  So I am grateful.

But what I want, and what I think I need, is to be enabled to move on to something greater.  (See also John 14:12, from a guy who’s not very good at John 14:15)

I hear some people say there’s a “calling” for their lives.  Am I missing it, or am I here?  And if I’m here, what am I supposed to do?  Maybe I’m here to encourage.  And I’m grateful for people online who care, we are a great community.  I try to be encouraging.  Even when I am feeling none of it.  I spend time when you come to mind, praying for you individually and as a group.  I know Christ-followers say they do, and I’ve been guilty of saying and not doing, but I really do pray for our circle.

I know, even when we have to grin and bear it, or cry and hate it, or vent because no one else will listen, I can.  And I know, even when my heart wants to deny the realities and benefits of my faith, at my core I do believe in a God Who cares.  Life is more than food and clothing (and cars and other shit that falls apart Matthew 6:19, 31-34).  There’s a spiritual component, an eternal component, and we need to be aware of this and handle that business too.

I’m encouraged and grateful for the confidence I have in eternal and spiritual things that goes deeper than I can believe.  Even if the world is completely wrong (and it often is) God still cares and helps me through the lost feelings I often have because the world is completely wrong. (To minimize the reading requirement above, verses 18-24 are really enough to understand, confusing as they can be when life is upside down or sideways.)

I know verses 16 to 18 are there, and I could let that upset me.  Oh, sure, sometimes I let it, but I know I shouldn’t.  It could be a communication issue, because my Christ-following “brothers and sisters” don’t seem to understand well enough (or perhaps are less innocent than just not understanding, but who am I to accuse?) to help.  They don’t know what I really need, because I don’t know what I really need.  And when I have tried to communicate it, I’ve had empty promises or confusion or less than I thought I needed.  I’m grateful for the help I received at that particularly low period in my life.  I have one friend at church who seemed to understand, when I hit that very humiliating and crushing low and reached out.  Actually, Mrs M reached out, because I didn’t think I should, I thought that God should answer my cry for help.  But after that, when another low came, I found out I have a group of “friends” who are in authority who told me they already helped us once, and I should “just” get a better job to cure my esteem problem and my depression problem and my poverty problem all in one fell swoop.  Which would be great, but the “funny” (not very funny) part is, I gave the friend (a deacon) who seemed to understand a resume, WITH my educational credentials and history of volunteer service, but I’m not considered a good candidate when a (paid) pastoral staff position opens.  So, is that really a “friend,” or just a good actor?

And I also know verse 22 is there, and I could let that upset me because I don’t have “whatever I ask,” but I know I shouldn’t.  There are those annoying conditions I’m supposed to meet before we receive whatever we ask, and I know I don’t because I’m not that good at “keep[ing] His commands and do[ing] what pleases Him.”  I’m well-intentioned, but sometimes I’m better at the opposite, or at doing little to nothing, depending on my energy level.

But if I can care about people here online, and sometimes succeed at encouraging others, and sometimes succeed at actually helping others in some tiny ways, in spite of feeling like I’m basically useless, worthless, and helpless at my own life, why can’t I do that in real life, and only here online?

Welcome to The Bipolar Online Church!  I’m pastor Deon Mumple, and I’m here to care about you, and pray for you, and if I can, help you, in the name of Jesus.  Let me know.  I will absolutely do what I can, and will absolutely pray for the rest.  I’ve seen some unexpectedly oddly twisted answers in response to some prayers, and marvelled, despite the lack of very many resoundingly complete answers that I wanted toward any prayers I’ve made for myself.  And thank you for caring about me too- I’ll just presume you do if you’ve bothered to read this far in, whether you are a Christ-follower or not.  It’s the day after Thanksgiving, and I hope you have enough of the little things to be grateful for, in spite of any First (or second, or third) world problems we may face.

With those little things, I hope it was enough for you to have had a good Thanksgiving holiday celebration.  And I hope the weekend is restful enough for us to be on track for a good week to follow.

Blessings.

Deon (the not very reverend) Mumple

Official Disclaimer (Not to be Construed as an Actual Legal Document)

The information and opinions included in this blog may have been obtained from nearly anywhere: the author’s imagination, imagined or real past, present, or future, mom, dad, family, pastors, teachers, various authorities and trained and self-proclaimed “experts” in their fields, friends, “alternative friends” (he means “enemies,” if he has any), associates, employers past, present and future, wise counselors, average people, and blithering idiots, however, the author, Deon Mumple and/or any subsidiaries or aliases make no legal guarantee nor actual, official assertion of reliability, accuracy or grammatical, political, acrimonious, religious, irreligious or sacrilegious correctness, and assume no responsibility nor liability from any ideas, suggestions, manipulations, information or materials  provided, including the official-sounding, but not actually official, title of this article.  It is the reader’s responsibility to  confirm or prove incorrect any data or source citations, and of course, to act responsibly, in compliance with any applicable local, state or federal regulations. Any information, content, presumed or real intent or opinion, obtained from or via nombredelapluma.wordpress.com or any associated blogs or bloggers, or especially, this author, through any “like” or commentary remark, should not be used as any basis for spiritual advice, legal advice, illegal advice, moral advice, immoral advice, or other advice, but should be confirmed, properly authenticated, or legally assessed, through actually reliable, alternative sources.  Any comments or articles, past, present, or future, though possibly interpretable as flirtatious, should be understood as intended only to be complimentary, flirtatious-without-actual-intent, encouraging, and loving in nature.  Though the author may express appreciation for an individual’s appearance or the appearances of a group, no harassment is intended or should be implied, nor may the reader or subject presume intent, personal reference, implication or actual harassment.  (While the author admires, appreciates and loves all women as individual works of art, both in internal and external appearance and presentation, the reader shall be aware of Mrs. M’s full, sole, and complete rights to all cash, properties, and physical and mental devices possessed by Deon Mumple.)  It is presumed that personal deportment, comportment and presentation is under the personal responsibility and accountability of the individual or individuals presenting themselves, and this author shall write whatever opinion or nonsense which finds its’ way out of the derangement, hereafter referred to as “his thoughts,” and into this or other’s blog or blogs, presuming the rights of freedom of speech and expression implied, imbued or conferred by local, state and federal laws, including the Constitution of the United States of America, and its’ amendments.  Any articles or comments of a harsh nature are solely intended to vent the frustrations of the author, and while they may have been inspired by actual individuals, imaginary individuals, actual events or distortions of actual events, the author assumes no defamatory liability for reporting upon said events or individuals, who shall be referred to legally as “characters.”  And should any “characters” believed to be represented in this blog or blogger’s comments feel offended, it is presumed that said characters may freely close the web-page through their browser window option, or surf on to another site.  Though the author may express personal opinions, the words and opinions expressed in this blog may or may not represent the actual, official opinions of the author.  Individuals and/or groups may not presume any personal or corporate defamation or actual insult regarding belonging to, or not belonging, in fact or in fancy, to an ethnicity, a nation, a race, a religion, an actual, chosen, imagined, presumed, or invented gender or sexual orientation, or because they have a handicap. (This author, in this author’s opinion, would be an even worse blogger or commentator, not to mention, suck as a human being, if, as a handicapped person, this author belittled another handicapped person.  He may be evil, but he’s not THAT evil.)    Though the author may express dislike for specific actions, or an alternate opinion regarding life choices, it is the reader’s responsibility to assume any liabilities from following or ignoring any advice or opinions contained herein or in any article or comment, past, present, or future.   The reader further shall be fully responsible for any personal acts, comments, feelings and opinions construed as caused by said readership.  Any criminal actions against the author, including, but not limited to, threats, intimidations, stalkings or murders, or actions adversely affecting the author’s personal property or family members, will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

La Belleza della Anima

La Belleza della Anima

(scritto dal Deon Mumple, 11/20/2017)

Celebro la bellezza
della anima
creata con attenzione,
come la poesia vivente.

Glialcoolici schiacciati
mostrano lemaggiori
scintille, affascinano,
con l’abbaglio,
losplendore dell’ipnotico.

Intrappolato, non posso sfuggire a,
attirato inesorabilmente
dallabellezza
della anima.

Il momento arriva
e rend contoere
che il cuore
è stato modellato
dalle cicatrici.

Vedo la bellezza interna
riflessa esternamente.

Siete bella, levostre manifestazioni
di bellezza dalvostro corpo
di alvostro di spirito

non voglio smettere
mai di ammirare
ogni parte voi