He lived bound by laws. What should have been moments of freedom were stuffed into boxes – neatly organized coffins, stifling pure joy and immense hope. They were rules taught to him as a child. He never learned to understand the Love that sent those rules to the grave.
I never found myself asking god for anything, not since school anyway. But here I was, sitting in a hospital room with my dying father, speaking into the void. Nobody answered, but hearing my own voice, in reality, was all I needed.
As I was working I heard my master talk about Jews. He said they were a disgrace but he didn’t know that almost all his savants were Jewish but we went going to tell him.
the excess fabric from the old habits of a young nun lag heavy on tile floors, walked with impious steps at a religious pace, traveling through the red, dripping
I was raised with religious beliefs, but, once I started asking questions, I religiously raised those beliefs above my head and tossed them into the canyon. I can still hear their echo, though.
I don’t get religious people; I don’t. In fact, every religious person I know seems to be the most unloving, prejudiced, racist people. That’s why I disowned my family and my religion. Today I have my own tribe, and don’t believe in religion.
BUT WHY DIDNT THE LIONS EAT THE SMALLER ANIMALS? HOW DO YOU KNOW JESUS REALLY WALKED ON WATER?
IS GOD MAGIC?” BE QUIET CHILD, WE DO NOT QUESTION THESE THINGS” REPLIED SISTER ELLEN IN HER STERN IRISH ACCENT.
religious and pious, my name happens to be Pius. derived from the roman catholic pope, although Christian, somewhere out there, there is hope. Believe in entities, believe in the universe, believe in what you will. just be peaceful and believe in yourself.
It had never occurred to Duvalian that his religious teachings could ever be construed as limited, but as he looked around the room with his eyes and mind in perfect clarity, feeling at one with the world and all of its inhabitants, he realised that if his priests could not discuss this experience, they could not teach him religion.
He bowed reverently toward the icon. The smell of burning beeswax candles and incense lay heavy in the air. One last time he crossed himself: three fingers pressed together ranging from forehead, to belly; right shoulder to left. Finally, a soft pat on his heart.
She didn’t give in to anything they said,
And she was ousted.
Far away, with noone to stand by her.
While they picked up knives, swords and guns,
in the name of being religious,
She picked her suitcase and walked away.
Gud är en trevlig prick som många tror bor på ett moln i himmelen men det vet vi inte om han gör, det gäller bara att tro, religion handlar om en tro på något, endel brukar säga att evolutionen är fakta men det är också på ett sätt en tro och en religion, hahaha nu kan jag se faktagubbarnas sura miner när jag skrev det. det finns många religioner såsom Buddismen och Judendomen.
I use to feel secure in the religious blanket my mother covered us with as children. When I began to have my own ideas I thought there was no way a being in the sky could rule over the entire existence. Now I can’t help but feel the energy there. The unspoken words and incomprehensible warmth of love. Although I cannot doubt the presence I can’t help but still feel lonely. I know there’s darkness inside of me. I wish I knew how to fight it. I know he’s given me the tools to fight it I just can’t figure out if I’m in denial or I’m lost.
Being religious is about one persons mind. These days we pick and choose which parts to believe in which is absolutely ludicrous, but makes us more comfortable with being a part of a specific religion because everything we don’t like about it becomes irrelevant.
For the first time in two decades, he knelt. He never thought he’d be back here, after how this place had took his father away. He had vowed to denounce religion, and yet he found a deep sense of comfort from this position.
Religious is a word so often used incorrectly. One can be “religious” about nearly anything. It does not actually mean “spiritual” but merely steadfast in a particular passion or endeavor, sadly.
To the houses of the holy
we march
shame and guilt
millstones of our soul
to find the tool to chip them away
free us from our agony
but salvation is not to be found
among the pious, religious
but from humble faith
pure and unpretentious
People attack on each other in the name of religion.what religion is it which provokes hatred,instills bad things in the minds of fellow beings..If that is what is religion… i wish to call myself as not religious.
According to me religion is something which gives you a disciplined way of leading life..a beautiful way of thinking about God..Religion is something which differentiates what is good and what is bad..But the catch is each one should be able to understand it.Its a common mans guide for life..I dont require middle men who tell me this is correct and this is wrong(Mind you..Right and wrong is not based on religion its on the basis of middlemen convenience).I dont wish to follow such a religion…I am proud to say and not religious..My only religion is Live happily and let others live happily.
He was never particularly religious, but this just tipped the scales. Losing his wife so soon after losing his son tore Nathan’s heart apart. I hope there is no god, he thought because if there is, this is just too much for one person. What can I do without Carol? Without Robert? There is nothing left.
I am sick to death of liquor stores. That is what i think when I am surrounded by the familiar glinting bottles, reaching for a full version of one of the many dead soldiers rinsed and bagged under my sink. It is like Groundhog Day, reaching for this bottle of nothing, I have bought this exact same bottle before. This reaching goes back, back, back for more too many days and too much money to contemplate.
I am sick of the liquor store and people buying a bottle of wine for dinner, they come in here sane and thoughtless. It is just something nice for them. I notice, with tension, the men buying singles of beer, paying in coins they push toward the clerk with dirty fingers. I hate it all. I hate the rich gleam of liquids nearly as poisonous as gasoline, and more costly. I am exhausted. I have been done with drinking for a long time, but I still compulsively buy something every day. It is a comfort to have it in the house, and the first drink is still golden. The first drink fills me with resignation, knowing all the successive drinks that will follow, knowing all the “first” drinks that precede it, knowing that the levels of liquid in the glass will become careless. The first glass fills me with hope. I feel like I am getting away from something, or getting away with something. I am not religious but I wish I was, so that I had something other than me to lean on for strength against this compulsion.
Everyone always gets upset when you say “I’m religious” but why? Why can’t religion be how it was meant to be? Kind, accepting, and bringing hope to those who have none? To help us see what’s beyond humanity? And yet so often, we fight about whose religion is ‘right’, or ‘wrong’. Why?
“I’ve never been religious,” I said.
“Well then it’s a great time to start. Put your hands on your head and turn around.”
As if in a dream, I did as he told and heard a predatory click. Then one more.
I’m religious, that seems to be an instant impression, but why, I’m no different than anyone else…what do they see, that I can’t? Or maybe we can always see it in another and not ourselves..?
To be religious is to put blind faith in another’s hands, another whom you’re not certain exists. It’s throwing all of your hope, your breath, your life, out into the universe and not getting a response… that is, until death.
I’m not very religious, and yet a little god spoke to me on my seventeenth birthday. She was dressed in a little purple robe and wore a little black hat, and she slurped soup from a little white bowl that smelled like something I could get from a Vietnamese restaurant. Her little blonde curls bounced from under the brim of her hat, and she giggled when I stared.
“You know,” she squeaked, “it’s rude to ogle a deity like myself.” She was no bigger than a house cat, and yet here she was, chastising me for alleged impropriety.
i aint too religios these days.
maybe i’ve gone astray from the way i was raised
see back in the day i thought o nothing but GOD
thought about going to heaven but that dream got robbed
see reality got me feeling more sinful
and now i know what im in for.
It hangs deep in his robes, a delicate
clapper at the center of a bell.
It moves when he moves, a ghostly fish in a
halo of silver seaweed, the hair
swaying in the dark and the heat — and at night while his eyes sleep, it stands up
in praise of God.
Religious or religion it means what a person beleives in I personally in god .
Religious isn’t spiritual
it’s a box full of answers
that you spit in my face
to be condescending.
Religious isn’t spiritual
it’s bruised knees
on cold floors
but you’re still wanting.
Religious isn’t spiritual
it’s reading Revelation over
a death bed but she needs
water not words.
Religious isn’t spiritual
it’s a box full of answers
that you spit in my face
to be condescending.
Religious isn’t spiritual
it’s bruised knees
on cold floors
but you’re still wanting.
He lived bound by laws. What should have been moments of freedom were stuffed into boxes – neatly organized coffins, stifling pure joy and immense hope. They were rules taught to him as a child. He never learned to understand the Love that sent those rules to the grave.
I never found myself asking god for anything, not since school anyway. But here I was, sitting in a hospital room with my dying father, speaking into the void. Nobody answered, but hearing my own voice, in reality, was all I needed.
we only pray to those who worthy… it was not some kind of a reliogious trip, but only speaking our mind. the hell with candles .. who needs them…
As I was working I heard my master talk about Jews. He said they were a disgrace but he didn’t know that almost all his savants were Jewish but we went going to tell him.
Good and evil. good is taught, evil is done. Double edged sword.
the excess fabric from the old habits of a young nun lag heavy on tile floors, walked with impious steps at a religious pace, traveling through the red, dripping
I was raised with religious beliefs, but, once I started asking questions, I religiously raised those beliefs above my head and tossed them into the canyon. I can still hear their echo, though.
I don’t get religious people; I don’t. In fact, every religious person I know seems to be the most unloving, prejudiced, racist people. That’s why I disowned my family and my religion. Today I have my own tribe, and don’t believe in religion.
BUT WHY DIDNT THE LIONS EAT THE SMALLER ANIMALS? HOW DO YOU KNOW JESUS REALLY WALKED ON WATER?
IS GOD MAGIC?” BE QUIET CHILD, WE DO NOT QUESTION THESE THINGS” REPLIED SISTER ELLEN IN HER STERN IRISH ACCENT.
religious and pious, my name happens to be Pius. derived from the roman catholic pope, although Christian, somewhere out there, there is hope. Believe in entities, believe in the universe, believe in what you will. just be peaceful and believe in yourself.
It had never occurred to Duvalian that his religious teachings could ever be construed as limited, but as he looked around the room with his eyes and mind in perfect clarity, feeling at one with the world and all of its inhabitants, he realised that if his priests could not discuss this experience, they could not teach him religion.
He bowed reverently toward the icon. The smell of burning beeswax candles and incense lay heavy in the air. One last time he crossed himself: three fingers pressed together ranging from forehead, to belly; right shoulder to left. Finally, a soft pat on his heart.
She folded her hands, closed her eyes, and waited.
Nothing.
She felt nothing.
She opened her eyes and peeked around at the gathered people.
i am you i am you
i am all who you will ever aspire to be
it rests
on the top of steeples,
leering at the gas station,
conclusions leave it
and dubious truths fill its followers
while there are many its,
the only problem is choosing which it
to give your hands to.
She didn’t give in to anything they said,
And she was ousted.
Far away, with noone to stand by her.
While they picked up knives, swords and guns,
in the name of being religious,
She picked her suitcase and walked away.
Gud är en trevlig prick som många tror bor på ett moln i himmelen men det vet vi inte om han gör, det gäller bara att tro, religion handlar om en tro på något, endel brukar säga att evolutionen är fakta men det är också på ett sätt en tro och en religion, hahaha nu kan jag se faktagubbarnas sura miner när jag skrev det. det finns många religioner såsom Buddismen och Judendomen.
I use to feel secure in the religious blanket my mother covered us with as children. When I began to have my own ideas I thought there was no way a being in the sky could rule over the entire existence. Now I can’t help but feel the energy there. The unspoken words and incomprehensible warmth of love. Although I cannot doubt the presence I can’t help but still feel lonely. I know there’s darkness inside of me. I wish I knew how to fight it. I know he’s given me the tools to fight it I just can’t figure out if I’m in denial or I’m lost.
Being religious is about one persons mind. These days we pick and choose which parts to believe in which is absolutely ludicrous, but makes us more comfortable with being a part of a specific religion because everything we don’t like about it becomes irrelevant.
A payment gateway to attract customers to stores and restaurants, offering discounts and other features. A revolutionary application
For the first time in two decades, he knelt. He never thought he’d be back here, after how this place had took his father away. He had vowed to denounce religion, and yet he found a deep sense of comfort from this position.
Religious is a word so often used incorrectly. One can be “religious” about nearly anything. It does not actually mean “spiritual” but merely steadfast in a particular passion or endeavor, sadly.
To the houses of the holy
we march
shame and guilt
millstones of our soul
to find the tool to chip them away
free us from our agony
but salvation is not to be found
among the pious, religious
but from humble faith
pure and unpretentious
People attack on each other in the name of religion.what religion is it which provokes hatred,instills bad things in the minds of fellow beings..If that is what is religion… i wish to call myself as not religious.
According to me religion is something which gives you a disciplined way of leading life..a beautiful way of thinking about God..Religion is something which differentiates what is good and what is bad..But the catch is each one should be able to understand it.Its a common mans guide for life..I dont require middle men who tell me this is correct and this is wrong(Mind you..Right and wrong is not based on religion its on the basis of middlemen convenience).I dont wish to follow such a religion…I am proud to say and not religious..My only religion is Live happily and let others live happily.
He was never particularly religious, but this just tipped the scales. Losing his wife so soon after losing his son tore Nathan’s heart apart. I hope there is no god, he thought because if there is, this is just too much for one person. What can I do without Carol? Without Robert? There is nothing left.
To believe in angels guarding our souls from above, to a fiery pit of death buried underneath this earth, what is religion really rooted in?
I am sick to death of liquor stores. That is what i think when I am surrounded by the familiar glinting bottles, reaching for a full version of one of the many dead soldiers rinsed and bagged under my sink. It is like Groundhog Day, reaching for this bottle of nothing, I have bought this exact same bottle before. This reaching goes back, back, back for more too many days and too much money to contemplate.
I am sick of the liquor store and people buying a bottle of wine for dinner, they come in here sane and thoughtless. It is just something nice for them. I notice, with tension, the men buying singles of beer, paying in coins they push toward the clerk with dirty fingers. I hate it all. I hate the rich gleam of liquids nearly as poisonous as gasoline, and more costly. I am exhausted. I have been done with drinking for a long time, but I still compulsively buy something every day. It is a comfort to have it in the house, and the first drink is still golden. The first drink fills me with resignation, knowing all the successive drinks that will follow, knowing all the “first” drinks that precede it, knowing that the levels of liquid in the glass will become careless. The first glass fills me with hope. I feel like I am getting away from something, or getting away with something. I am not religious but I wish I was, so that I had something other than me to lean on for strength against this compulsion.
Everyone always gets upset when you say “I’m religious” but why? Why can’t religion be how it was meant to be? Kind, accepting, and bringing hope to those who have none? To help us see what’s beyond humanity? And yet so often, we fight about whose religion is ‘right’, or ‘wrong’. Why?
“I’ve never been religious,” I said.
“Well then it’s a great time to start. Put your hands on your head and turn around.”
As if in a dream, I did as he told and heard a predatory click. Then one more.
I’m religious, that seems to be an instant impression, but why, I’m no different than anyone else…what do they see, that I can’t? Or maybe we can always see it in another and not ourselves..?
To be religious is to put blind faith in another’s hands, another whom you’re not certain exists. It’s throwing all of your hope, your breath, your life, out into the universe and not getting a response… that is, until death.
Controversial. Opiate of the masses. Teaches to do good.
Religious to have faith on a bigger than yourself figure.
I’m not very religious, and yet a little god spoke to me on my seventeenth birthday. She was dressed in a little purple robe and wore a little black hat, and she slurped soup from a little white bowl that smelled like something I could get from a Vietnamese restaurant. Her little blonde curls bounced from under the brim of her hat, and she giggled when I stared.
“You know,” she squeaked, “it’s rude to ogle a deity like myself.” She was no bigger than a house cat, and yet here she was, chastising me for alleged impropriety.
i aint too religios these days.
maybe i’ve gone astray from the way i was raised
see back in the day i thought o nothing but GOD
thought about going to heaven but that dream got robbed
see reality got me feeling more sinful
and now i know what im in for.
It hangs deep in his robes, a delicate
clapper at the center of a bell.
It moves when he moves, a ghostly fish in a
halo of silver seaweed, the hair
swaying in the dark and the heat — and at night while his eyes sleep, it stands up
in praise of God.