Where can I go?

Where is God?

Stop and answer the question honestly. Where? Before you read any further.

Your answer matters deeply to how you view the world.  Because

If you answer by saying "everywhere,"

Then it presents an interesting paradox.

When you are moving away from God- aren't you actually moving towards Him?

Logically, I suppose there is no "away."

But this is all in relation to the answer that God is everywhere.  So you can go about trying to answer the question in a myriad of other ways that all seem to make sense to you, rational, logical sense.  But then again, you have to ask yourself another unpleasant question. Are you, the finite, ever supposed to comprehend the infinite?

Does your question even matter?  If you were ever to receive the answer or witness the answer or approach the answer headlong on the street, would you ever accept it?

When Nietzsche wrote that God is dead and we have killed him. There is no such thing as not believing in God.  You don't believe in God, you believe in another God, some other dictate or divine principle with which to live by, there is no killing God, there is only killing of a concept.

And even Concepts struggle to die, remember when we all thought everyone believed the world was round?  Flat earth lives on.  You go into space, you expand your view, you see for real, you kill the concept for no one but yourself and the ones who someday follow you.

The idea is that the enlightenment killed the possibility that one should believe in God.

Mine, idea of that same thought is not belief should ever go away, but as with knowledge, belief ought to expand with it.

Every day we die and come back new, in some sense, our old concepts, our old framework becomes unfeasible and we begin to enter into new life- often without a relatable structure- a veritable wilderness as some Israelite author tried to convey in the "Exodus."

We all are leaving something. A new exodus that the enlightenment has allowed and we must not allow for the death of God, but rather embrace the death of ourselves, for the sake of being reborn into new knowledge, new information, new experience.

Some grave conviction of mine is to continually be in a state of leaving.  And so as I leave the God that we have tried to define, I intend to draw closer to the real him, as well.

One can never leave the infinite, they can only condemn themselves to not seeing it exists deeper and farther outside one's self than they can imagine.  Let that logic prevail and we will see that the concrete has always been beset by mystery.  And this is the God that lives- the God of what we know, what we will know, and what we will never know.

Fortunehearted

What does it mean to be fortunehearted? 

Well, first I'd say it opens us up to wonder what's inside of us.  To ask what the heart is, what it desires, what it craves.  Is it the same in all of us? 

Most likely it isn't, not in the minutiae at least.  Everybody seems to live it out differently.  But do we all have a heart that longs for love? Longs to be loved?

We've hurt people with this heart, other times love has poured out of it.  What is more untrustworthy but the heart?

We feel it stabbed when somebody turns on us, we ache and we yearn, so much so that sometimes we can only function by ignoring it.

But to be fortunehearted means to never let it go.  In the face of a world that struggles against hope, attempts to crush illusion and to shatter the unreasonable, to be fortunehearted means to never let go of what is inside.  The heart that is screaming at us that this world will get better, people will learn to care and to care for others.

I am FortuneHearted.

The Warrior

Wisdom is not desire
Wisdom is not knowledge
Part of wisdom comes from experience
Wisdom is knowing nothing more must be said

The one thing I don't like about writing is that there isn't really much you can do to come off like you don't know everything.  In order for anyone to have a chance to care, you have to speak with authority you don't have.  I do know that a lot of people are truly educated and do deserve respect, but how can I know how respectable they are if I don't see how they live it?  I'm never sure what the purpose of learning is if the information itself is not satisfying to the soul, nor is it life sustaining.

There are morals in life, there are ideas that preserve humanity and sustain generosity.

When I was young, I thought I knew everything.  Many people have said that before, but I'm not going to insinuate that when I was younger I knew nothing.  I have more respect for myself than that, I sometimes have more respect for myself then than I do now.  The one thing I picked up really well were emotions.  I knew what I wanted and I could pretty easily tell you what other people wanted.

I lived life for emotion, I let situations frequent and stir the fire of my soul, emotion was like a wild bull, and riding it was the most exciting seconds of my life, but how dangerous it was...

The best philosophies come not from educated men who want to clearly communicate their idea in words, the best philosophies come from fiction writers who know the only way to communicate an idea effectively is through how it plays out, and the imagination, when trained, can be an accurate depiction of reality, and most importantly, it can be an arena in which to have experiences where reality will not allow.

The only question comes from asking, what is the realistic consequence?

Who has to imagine what it is like to let go?  Who has to imagine what damage is done by the bull that is emotion in the china shop that is the world?  When I was young, yes I knew what I wanted and I knew what others wanted, but I also believed no one should ever have to sacrifice.  When the situation called for one or the other party to give, was I going to be the one to take the fall?

There were times I was... There were actually times I was much more willing to sacrifice for other people than keep myself.

These are the times I hurt them most: when I kept secret my intentions.

Dream

I'm building something.  And everyday it seems to get less and less easier to touch.  Though I've longed to just run my fingers along it, hold it in my arms... It seems the best things in life are dreams.  Just dreams.  Who can say they haven't wanted them to be more?

I think there are many who will ask you to come down, see life for what it really is, but I cannot neglect the infinite air, and I ask you as well to not deny yourself the dream. The space of fiction that slips into our reality that is lofty, untouchable and mysterious.  Your heart dreams for a world of hope, of love.  Have you forgotten how you've danced?  Like a faded memory buried over with so called knowledge that says "I know who I am and I am not a dancer."

Weren't you ever?  Weren't you a dancer and didn't you fall, fall out of the sky? And didn't you fall hard?

That is why I am building a tower, to reach the heavens, but untouchable.

A tower of hopes and dreams.

Or maybe just resting my wings in a tree that grows.

Heart

When not entertaining Chaos
Dressing ourselves as complicated
We are surprisingly simple creatures

Tasting the evening's toasts
Sparking up lamps in the dying light
Camping on dirty couches

Just so the night can go on
And us devils
Can find a way to slight the stars
Into giving us a shot.

We're not really evil
Sometimes the show makes us that way

and to give in to the presentation,
We just put on our suits
and work the door-

Hurricane

I can remember the nights I would have said it.  Sometimes, I like to go back to a certain time where my thoughts were just a mess.  Whether it was the night where I was talking to you on the webcam, or the night you called me in November and I had seen it coming far too long to be able to cry.  I had too many nights where I couldn't do anything but look at you longingly, and too much time spent being the man without a job.

I wish I could make it easier for you to love me.

More practical, less just romantic torture.  I know you felt for me, but to love me I made impossible.  I probably did so just because I needed to stretch it to see how much it could take.  Who knows what is worth putting effort into- maybe your holding on is just trying to stop a train by standing on the tracks.

We are the blood of the the abuser, with the microscope on the word unconditional we test it with strain and we don't want someone who just holds on- we don't want someone who will leave.  We want someone who can't help but stand in front of the train.  Someone who will love when it's not easy.  A couple of people who just can't let go in the midst of the hurricane.

Is there anyone out there like me?