Tuesday, May 05, 2009

Duplicity








Have a monologue of a recreational psychoanalysis that evokes the fiery familiarity and the sour conception of truth. Even the deaf and blind can conceive better than the fortunate. The model was that of a sincere being who ingeniously professed truth. The subject becomes the object, and the supreme stranger is the trader of duplicity. Such strangers are the prisoners of ego, and the enemies of humility who are in a mayhem searching for their targets. Their trademarks are smears on everyone but themselves.

Marvelous it is how one is so capable of parading false love to people, and worshipping Allah in a ceremonial way. The choices some make, desiring insincere relationships over truth of external life through lip service rather than commitment of the heart. Ah, the calculated choice of traditions over the law of God. The deliberate disobediences and the mislaid scale of righteousness; settling for an inferior brand of religion to engage in false affairs and compliments through fake indignations. The lies masquerade as respects.

It is ever so easy to dismiss pain that is not yours. The heart cringes to the floor to see that one can separate their body from their soul, and exchange their essence by intoxicating it with worldly needs. The praises they crave, beseech, and drown in. The critic they become to whisk their own poison. God gives you a face, and you give the world another then you loathe to attend to sins that you constantly perpetrate. The daily events: deliberate mistakes, and unfulfilled promises.

Why is it so hard to end those noises that sound right but feel wrong; toss those plateful sanctimonious words and vain morals! We have lost it; all we did was sing our own praises. Mute your swanks. You are louder than what you say. You are blue; numb and cold; and an infamy to the dead. You decorate your grave all nice and neat but inside, you are just dead bones. The simulations of religion, and the absence of practice; now has become the religion jazz that pleases but fools people.

The diagnosis is confirmed, symptoms concluded; oppressed and unhealed. Resentful and self absorbed. One holds this cosmetic religion, encrusted with a million little jealous lies and hides behind sins in a caked religion, in exchange, for layers of synthetic integrity to the watching world.

In time, serving people will get harder than serving Allah. Be tired and afraid. Swallow your fear. The unsentimental customs will dissolve, and the animal you hid, will be the one who will swallow you. You are the trader of duplicity; the contemptible faces. You are the tragedy, oh the man-made master plan; the path carved to hell. There is only truth; and the truth only has one face.


There is no vaccination, but to submit through humility.


Motivation for the above: Witnessing Hypocrisy

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