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psychemeanscure · 3 years

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PART 24 {Did I scare you from the previous part? 😌 sorry~🙈 It won’t be the ending though until you’ll see the word Fin. So yeah😉}

“Hide.”

“Hide, princess. Hide.”

“But appa----“

“Just run away now, Sung Eunyoung. Hide!”

A dawning nights of thunderous rains clattering through every roofs of homes, deafening silent dreams of solemnness. But not for the Sung Mansion. A panicking patriarch silently waking up a clueless young daughter who is just peacefully sleeping. Rubbing an eye from its sleepy mien.

“Appa?”

Her soft voice which only responded by a hush. Confused, yet just enough to get terrified after hearing the sturdy banging behind her bedroom door. Sleepiness instantly vanished. “W-what’s happening, appa?”

Fear came upon the young self. For there she is, being obliged to go down a secret basement of the bedroom her architect father built just for her. A secret passage through their gates exit. Then again she pushed to peek and witness everything and she did for there it is, men in black surrounding his blooded father and the merciless leader she can never forget.

“Hide.”

“Hide, Jang Taeyoung!!”

But it was him. It was his name she keeps on uttering now. She on the dirt of soil and scratches, pouring tears of fear. It became a routine of her consciousness. The day she witnessed her father’s death and how it changed into seeing Jang Taeyoung’s blooded one. 3 years. Three years had passed but she can still remember it clearly. Dreams that was once occupied by her father is with his added. The once revenge she aimed is her today’s anguished.

Afraid that someone might see her with a shattering state, she quickly went inside the bathroom and approach the nearest sink. Washing out the remarks of her endless tears. She dreamt of him again. It was a nap but it always feels like forever.

She cannot forget how she left him even after being saved. Neither did she ask about him ever if he could have been alive or not? She wouldn’t know for she felt guilty all of a sudden that leaving is the only thing she can think of to repent her faults.

She blamed herself and she is still now. Her name was on run back then anyway so fleeing is the most sensible reason to escape. She shamelessly saved her own in the end. A total bitch she agrees.

“There you ar----“

“Hey!”

She was startled. A person who has no decency for privacy opens the door. “Do you really can’t control that attitude of yours? Dios mío.” She hated it. She hated when even just a small gesture from others, she can remember him. Massaging her temple, she asked. “What is this time?”

“My bad, amiga but I haven’t seen you around your desk. So I suppose you’re here, I can’t never be wrong indeed. You cried again? Jeez. What’s really in that nightmares of yours that it keeps haunting you. Are you a runaway bride or something?”

And yes, they’re talking in Spanish. The nosy questions coming from the nosy mouth of the other that she needed to butt in, facing the latter with irritation. A hand resting on the sink while the free one on the waist. “Judy, if you’re running out of stories to tell, will you please exclude my private ones and shut up? Cut the chase por favor.”

Judy who’s racing her arms to surrender, defended herself. “Okay, okay. Relax, will you? As I was saying, I came to your desk to put the files you requested about the incoming book fair this week.”

Instantly, her mood brightens up as she had been reminded about the program which proceeds will be a much help for the orphanage they are rendering. Checking each files with anticipation. “You like that?”

“Very.”

She’s all smiles from ear to ear that Judy can’t help but wonder. “Know what? If you really love kids, then make your own. I feel pity for your genes. Heck, if only I’ve been blessed with that kind of face I think I’m already sleeping with tons of Michael Angelo now.”

Rolling her eyes, she countered. “You, and your mouth, Judy. Did I ever say, I won’t? Spare me, please!”

“Oh yeah? Like how you intentionally dump all your admirers? What a great excuse from you, amiga.”

“Shut up, will you? Tss.”

“Whatever. Anyway, speaking of. The kids just arrive, waiting for your presence already.”

Judy reminds as it was also enough for her to be left on her own as Sung Eunyoung hurriedly went out without further ado. Sighing for being betrayed, she followed instead.

“Profesora!!”

The harmonic chimes of the children as they surrounded her with hugs and kisses as she bent over them. Stroking their hair with tender greetings. “How are you, mi estudiantes?”

“Great! Very great! Yes, we are. We miss you.”

For she has been bombarded with various answers she cannot dare to ignore.

Gone the business venturer her as she is only an ordinary lecturer now. Simply sitting by a tree as she tells tales to what she considered her children. Filling the empty space in her. “Hey, have you heard?”

Judy bringing back its nosiness once again right after she ask her students for a drawing class. Frowning, she faced her co-worker. “Again, Judy? Can you at least zip that blabber mouth of yours just for a day?”

“Hey! That’s too harsh of you.”

“Why? Isn’t it true?”

“Jeez. Your frankness in its finest. Well, let me tell you amiga. It’s a fact this time. Try me.”

She can only shake her head as the former continues her gathered information anyway. Little she knew a piece of it will rise a hidden hopefulness in her. “Russian.”

“I heard a Russian clan takes a big part of sponsoring our book fair. The Oblonsky even donated a number for the orphanage. Books, shelter, name it all. It was said that a Korean man will actually turn as their representative. A Russian elite entrusting an Asian man? How peculiar, right?”

She can only respond a stutter. “W-who’s clan did you say it is?”

“The Oblonsky. And you know what’s more enthralling?” She stilled. As she turned to her unbothered companion who’s still delighted by its own story. Right then, Judy leans for a whisper as if afraid to share it to anyone but her. “A dear acquaintance of mine said this damn representative has a figure of a perfect hottie, amiga. Oh my, how I can picture and meet this mysterious man of my dreams.”

The robust daydreaming of it which just left unheard on her for the only thought running through her mind was the information bestowed upon that she needed to leave the off-guard Judy who’s continuously calling her name from afar. She has to confirm it and if meeting him is the only answer, then be it. Pulling out her phone before stepping in her car, she decided.

“Where are you?”

Fidgeting her nails for waiting, she can’t attain anymore. The Russian Oblonsky clan or better well said the elite mafia gang who saved her foster parents from being hostage back then. The one she just knew he sought for help. Plus, that Korean man. “Dammit.”

She can only curse as everything just gets worse for her to absorb. Brushing her face as she didn’t notice the arrival of the person she contacted who’s now sitting across her. “What’s with that low face that makes you grumpy s---“

“Tell me what happened to him.”

Left confused, the person answers her anyway. “What? Who are you talking about?”

“The f*cking info you knew about him. Tell me all, now!”

Finally interpreted what she meant. He can only bulge his eyes from crunching. “Are you talking about brother? Finally, sis?”

She can only be silent for admitting. “J-just… just give it to me, Zilo.”

Zilo. Yes, she’s indeed meeting the Zilo Alcaziar who killed his own father. The unexpected savior they didn’t saw coming. Thus the seriousness between them came as the introduction of their subject reopened. “Will you believe me if I say he’s dead?”

A sting inside her broke as her skin shivered with disbelief.

“D-don’t… Don’t play with me, Zilo…”

But Zilo just led his head to look down. “Right... How can you trust a person who once harmed you?” He really means it, she can tell. “He vanished.”

“W-what?”

“That’s what I assumed at first when I went back to the scene as the authorities keeps searching for his body. I thought some of his men may have manage to escape their boss. To be honest, I do not actually know the real thing happened to brother but seeing how they found evidences of his death, I can’t help but realize the possibility sis. Believe me, I trie---“

“Stop.”

She needed to stop him before her heart will explode from hurting further. She had foreseen it, she just tried to ignore that it’s not. Hearing it makes her regret asking even as the sorrowful face of Zilo takes in. “I’m sorry…”

Seeing his downgrade stance, she can only sigh from its remorse. She can’t deny, she felt sorry for him as well. “As much as I thank you, I still hate you though.”

“I know. If only I reach in time, I could have save you both sis. Fath—could haven’t got the chance to slip and pull the trigger. I’m really sorry, I really do.” It was as if an unspoken secret from a box revealed its bits for the last time as his whispering apologies continues. Suppressing a drop of tear on her eye, she chooses to glance the shore by the window glass beside them.

“Forget it. It’s all in the past anyway. It’s not like we can bring back the time and change it.”

She thought three years could have been enough to heal her wounded soul but just a simple brought out, the facades breaking so easily. Silence visited once again. “You know what, Zil?” before she initiated to break it, turning to face him who’s as well looking by the shore like she does. “Hm?”

“I still wonder why you shot your own father. I do learn that you’re somehow fighting against him, but to save us? I can’t seem to search for a reason.”

His eyes never left the shore as he speaks. “It’s because it reminded me of how he killed my own mother.”

All she could do then, is listen. “I almost forgot about it, you know. The warmth. The warmth he stole from me when I was a kid. And brother… A younger brother he never had. Just like that, a mere phrase he simply pulled back for me. I thank him for that, and for the nth time, I’m really sorry. For everything. For you. For being a dimwit, for being too late. I really am, sis.”

Sincerity. For the first time she felt it from him. She may have not known what happened between him and Jang Taeyoung before the incident. Yet one thing’s for sure. Her loco, did a good job. “And I have forgiven you for that. Remember it now, Zilo.”

Giving him a small smile, she intended to light their atmosphere and she did as she was reciprocated by its own smile when finally turning to her. “Alright! So much for the drama. Shall we just order our food now?”

Clatters from the utensils can only be heard as they chew their own food when Zilo happens to thought of something. “Sis?”

“Yes?”

“I know this is too much for me to ask, but have you…uhm--- nah, it’s nothing.”

Sensing his hesitation, she obliged him. “Just say it, Zilo.”

Clearing a throat, he had no choice but to push. “Well, w-what I mean was that… perhaps, are you waiting for him? Brother?”

She was halt from her actions then as she was staring to her food, keeping to tap the spoon’s tip on her plate. “What makes you think I am?”

“Because I do think you are. You have been a transparent lioness easy to read ever since you lost him, sis that before you knew your once intricacy became your vulnerability. That what you are today. You just failed to notice it.”

She can never be as silent as she is right now indeed.

Leaning by the backrest of his seat, Zilo can see right through her. “So you’re really waiting for him, huh?”

‘Am I?’

She thought for herself.

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hellreads · 5 years

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I would really like if you could recommend me any stories with infidelity?

hi there anon, now this is one of the genres/au I enjoy reading, I do not condone cheating/infidelity in any way but there’s this pull you know, I want to get into people’s minds so I read and enjoy (also fucking hurt too srsly a lot of these fics make me bawl right it’s not in past tense because I reread a lot of the stories in here like an affected beech) stories like these, why do they do it? how do they sleep? (actually listening to sam smith’s how do you sleep as I consolidate this list) what triggered them to fall for another soul was it because of love or just plain old lust, as someone who’s been cheated on I know how it feels to be on the receiving end and it sucks the trauma stays with you, you’ll find it hard to trust, you’ll always question yourself, self-esteem will be fucking dippin’ low, in your eyes you’re pitiful and not worthy of being loved especially if you’ve been so fucking loyal like a dog, but a part of me wants to understand because I’m not perfect…

I wanna get in their heads and know how they manage to break a heart that loves them, I guess love will never be enough to keep someone no matter how much love you pour onto them, some love stories are meant to end as tragic as possible to teach us lessons and make our hearts stronger until we find the other half that will make it whole.

this will be a list with different categories, I’ll probably be tagging again the fics I tagged in previous infidelity lists I made because I want this to be the big list, the one I’ll probably update from time to time, the one I’ll keep coming back to when I wanna hurt and leave my tear ducts high and dry, let’s get it!

P.S: proceed with caution as I have listed taboo & dark themed ones here so pick your poison babes! 🖤

Exhibit A: The One Where You Cheat Together (mutual cheating, both in a relationship (or the other may be single) but still chose to cheat on respective partner/s)

❥ Right of Way by fringesofsanity➴ Infidelity/Lovers!AU | Jungkook x Reader x Jimin | Series➴ In theory, things were simple: your best friend was Jungkook’s girlfriend while your boyfriend, Jimin, was Jungkook’s best friend. In reality, things weren’t always that simple. And mutually exclusive.

❥ Bad Guy by @sweetbunnykook➴ Mob/Married!AU | Seokjin x Reader x Hoseok x Yoongi | Series➴ After a brutal attack in Hong Kong, your marriage with Kim Seokjin cracks as secrets begin to surface and a series of betrayals find their way into the veins of the Hidden Tigers. Although Jin’s devotion endures, in his own definition, the reality of being a mob wife may be too much for you to bear.

❥ 2U by @milkyyjmn ➴ Surrogate!AU | Jungkook x Reader x OC | Series➴ You were simply trying to make a living and give the opportunity of having children for the women who couldn’t. You meet a couple who plans to have a steady life — you being the last puzzle piece for it all. But you acknowledge the boyfriend, Jungkook, who questions if he actually wants it.

❥ Clandestine by @ditzymax ➴ Assassin!AU | Taehyung x Named OC x Jungkook | Series➴ As a professional assassin, Kim Kinsoo has many shrouded secrets in her life. Some of them she shares openly with her loving boyfriend, but there are other things he must never know.

❥ My Way @ellieljade➴ Infidelity!AU | Jungkook x Reader x OC | Series➴ Jungkook doesn’t appreciate your boyfriend’s insistence that he stops sleeping with you and he knows just how to prove that you like it his way.

❥ Wildest Moments by @joonbird➴ Infidelity/Producer!AU | Yoongi x Reader | Series➴ “Min Yoongi is forbidden territory. And although you both know better, the two of you just can’t seem to stay apart.”

❥ House of Cards by @aiimaginesbts ➴ Exes/Roommates!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook | Series➴ A love from high school days lasted until marriage. Just not yours.

❥ Infidelity by @jungk0oksthighs➴ Exes/Parents!AU | Seokjin x Reader | One-Shot➴ You and Jin had been divorced for a year but you’re forced to see each other when your son is found cheating on a test. After being called into school you both agree to make more of an effort being civil with each other, but it’s not long before history repeats itself. Family dinners turn into stolen kisses and ruffled bed sheets, but there’s one problem with your new arrangement. Jin’s wife.

❥ Should We Go Downtown by @honeyedhoseok ➴ BFF/FWB!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Hongbin (VIXX) | One-Shot➴ Taehyung has watched you struggle in your relationship with your boyfriend for a while, always being your shoulder to cry on. He’s learned the best trick to pick you up when you’re down–besides his sensation of his mouth on yours–is a trip downtown to the riverfront at nighttime, so you can see the boats coming in on the harbor while he tries to piece back together the girl he absolutely hates to see sad.

Exhibit B: The One Where They Cheat on You

❥ Only You by @sweetbunnykook➴ Yandere!AU | Jungkook x Reader x Namjoon x Seokjin | Series➴ Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much.

❥ Slight Changes by @chiminiemoans➴ Infidelity/Idol!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Jimin | Series➴ Taehyung gets caught.

❥ My Cheating Amnesic Fiancé | One / Two by wrienne ➴ Idol/Arranged Marriage!AU | Jungkook x Reader x OC | Series➴ BOOK ONE: In which you (reader) and Jeon Jungkook are engaged due to an arrangement made by both of your parents. Though neither of you especially like each other, you never thought you would find yourself in a relationship with a cheater. To top that off, destiny decides to make an entrance (in the form of a hard hit to a pretty skull) and Jungkook suffers amnesia, which only you seem to be able to handle. What will happen? Will you stay with him and help him through his predicament even though he loves someone else? Or should you simply let him go?➴ BOOK TWO: In which you (reader) and Jeon Jungkook are engaged due to an arrangement made by both of your parents. Or well, used to be. After finally resolving Jungkook’s amnesia and your complicated relationship, one would think that everything was fine. But destiny isn’t done messing with your life yet. Due to an incident where you confronted Jungkook’s brother and your current fiancé about some lies that he had made, you found out about a horrible part of his life that you now feel obligated to help him with. But in order to do that, you cannot tell him about you and Jungkook. Additionally, Jungkook isn’t done keeping secrets away from you - secrets that might destroy your already uncertain relationship permanently. Furthermore, your father’s weak health is a constant worry on your mind, and as news outlets dig out more about your late grandfather’s company’s involvement with the former president, nothing in your already chaotic life will be stable for a long time. Will your relationship with Jungkook make it through all the hurdles and hindrances that destiny sets before you? Or are you two really not meant to be?

Exhibit C: The One Where You Cheat on Them (the other party is clueless (mostly) about the affair)

❥ Who Cares by @floralseokjin➴ Infidelity/Lovers!AU | Taehyung x Named OC x Seokjin | Series➴ What happens when Taehyung falls for someone who’s already taken? Can he control his feelings or will they take over and render him powerless? In the end is it all her fault or his…?

❥ Comfort Inn Ending by @joonbird ➴ Idol!AU | Jungkook x Reader | Series➴ “It was you who Jungkook gave his heart to- that is until the day you broke it. And it is you now, hoping that some faultlines can be repaired and that some broken hearts can be put back together again.”

❥ Cheating by @jhspetitegf➴ Infidelity/Married!AU | Yoongi x Reader x Jimin | One-Shot➴ When you were sixteen, you had a life-plan. While all your other friends had been enjoying their youth; going on innocent dates to bowling alleys or spending Friday nights finishing their calculus homework, you had been setting a path for yourself, one you were determined to follow. Until you were about twenty, things had gone to plan; you were studying at an ivy league college, you had managed to shed any puppy fat you still clung onto around your middle, and you had a wonderful set of friends. One goal still lingered, however, and that was to meet The One.

❥ Access Denied by @littlemisskookie➴ Infidelity/Lovers!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Yoongi | One-Shot➴ Your boyfriend, Yoongi, no longer pays attention to you. So you decide to spend time with someone who will.

❥ Partition by @iq-biased ➴ Mafia!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Namjoon | Series➴ Namjoon. Head of one of the fiercest gangs in Seoul, and your boyfriend. You know he has been working on something big lately. Whatever it is, he’s keeping it very quiet. So quiet, that you’re beginning to doubt whether he’ll ever get any time with you. But when his driver, the infamous Kim Taehyung, is tasked with taking you home during a date-gone-wrong, he’s got nothing but time for you. And time is something you’re finding it really hard to resist…

❥ Always by @itskimtaehyung ➴ Mafia/Married!AU | Jimin x Reader x Jungkook | Series➴ You would die for him, kill for him, and everything in between. He was as much a part of you as yourself. You didn’t want anyone else. It was always Jungkook.

❥ Apologies by @ellieljade ➴ Idol/Lovers!AU | Taehyung x Reader | One-Shot➴ After a fight, Taehyung can’t bring himself to apologize to his girlfriend until he realizes that she might have moved on. If he wants her he needs to go get her.

❥ Dead Leaves by wrienne➴ Detective/Married!AU | Yoongi x Reader x Jimin | Series➴ In which you (reader) are a homicide detective about to face the biggest hurdle both of your career and life. Married to probably the kindest but most boring man you’ve ever met and living in a town where nothing ever seems to happen means life for you is dull. Dull enough to drive you crazy with boredom and dissatisfaction. However, life changes abruptly when your old boss retires and a new man takes his place - a man you used to love (and sleep very regularly with) more than a decade ago. Especially when your husband comes home smelling of perfume, you’re unable to resist your more carnal urges and dead women start showing up across the city with unnerving frequency.

BONUS:

Exhibit Dick: One Where OC Cheats on Reader

❥ A Hundred Percent Human by wrienne➴ Hybrid/Host Club!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series ➴ In which you (reader) are forced to take care of seven hybrids in a twist of fate.

After your estranged mother passes away, you’re left with an unwanted will and the heavy burden of responsibility. Although you’re desperate not to stray from the familiar path you thought was laid out in front of you with a fully human boyfriend who loves you more than anything, your life is thrown upside down once more after another unfortunate incident (that may or may not have to do with said boyfriend) occurs.

Drunk and down on life, you finally decide to deal with the house and the unsavory business your mother left behind. However, to your shock, you find that seven very different hybrids are included with both the house - and the business. Seven hybrids you never even met before - even less agreed to take care of.

Set in the not too distant future where infertility has become mankind’s greatest issue. Will contain sexual content.

so this is the list I came up with I hope you enjoy reading all of these stories I listed here, all of these are wonderful in their own heartbreaking way, some are on-going/on-hold series, some ended with happily ever afters while others ended in the most heart wrenching tragic way. | 🍒

#answered #tete-a-tete #anon #recs from hell #rfh:ot7 #rfh:knj #rfh:ksj #rfh:myg #rfh:jhs #rfh:pjm #rfh:kth #rfh:jjk #this is a lot but guess what i have more saved lol #also i'm vv sorry to park jimin he's always on the receiving end T_T #alternatively this is my list to satiate my curious mind on why people cheat how they do it how they get away with it and how they suffer af #i laughed at the how they suffer af part because i was about to say how they suffer after lol #any infidelity recs? please feed us! thank you :3

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slouchyslouch · 4 years

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JPEGMAFIA’s All My Heroes Are Cornballs

A year and a half after releasing Veteran, JPEGMAFIA (known as Barrington Hendricks) arrives with a more psychedelic yet pop-centric take of his own vision of hip-hop. Before this new record’s release, an onslaught of consistent features and ecstatic live youtube videos have come out this past year to make JPEGMAFIA truly one of my favourite artists of the few years. On All My Heroes Are Cornballs, he raps as if he’s going through an obstacle course, maneuvering his way through the schizophrenic beats that he himself has produced. There’s a flow in the record where songs creep into one another seamlessly as if multiple tracks are blobbed into one or splintered into many. Basic song structures are thrown out the window as every musical section blurs the lines between different ideas, and at the end of the race, Peggy can wipe off the blood, sweat, and tears and tell himself that he can’t disappoint anyone any longer.

In past records, JPEGMAFIA has dived into the trenches of the dark web. His bars paint a picture of him digging into the deep vortex of the internet to massacre ideas of white supremacy, sexist incels and people who just need to be called out on twitter. A secret agent of the people, he has now come out of the trenches dressed in silk and satin on the album cover as a prophet of justice. Peggy’s neurotic anger might still be displayed on Cornballs, but a lot of it is scattered with more tempered yet cut-throat bars into a space where he doesn’t need to yell out his wrath all the time. There’ll be a few measures of a melatonin-injected beat where one would just want to just light up and kick it, but Peggy doesn’t allow anyone that peace of mind. In the beginning of “Kenan VS Kel” he exhibits a swift precision and brashness, only for a searing doom metal guitar chord to break the charm. On "Beta Male Strategies,” things take a turn for the worse when a mind-bending guitar solo crunches through bones after a mellowed-out sample. With his arsenal of guitar samples in his toolkit he resembles that of a punk/metal frontman, directing moshpits on his order. When those guitar chord ring out, the left wing hades proceeds to rise from the ashes as he yells out a punctuated “FUCK” on every measure. These plethora of fucks throughout the record kind of play as a motif for the constant frustration Peggy feels in the divided and dark sociopolitical climate of the past few years. There’s more fighting to be done in this world, and Peggy is never tired.

JPEGMAFIA’s production has always been a standout on his records. The chaos that enveloped a lot of the first half of Veteran had a certain eccentricity to them such as on hard hitting tracks “Real Nega” and “Thug Tears.” On All My Heroes, his beats still convey that eccentricity yet veer into more vaporwave territory where his visceral angst cuts through the melancholic bliss of lofi static. Take tracks like “PTSD” and “Post Verified Lifestyle,” where shimmering synths give Peggy a somewhat meditative state only for him to pull out the glock and fire. There’s also a new found confidence in JPEG’s singing on this record where tracks like “Jesus Forgive Me I’m a Thot” carry a playfulness in their hooks. Released as the first single a few months before the release of the record, Peggy creates one of his all time best tracks in my opinion, one where I can say that he’s not just one of the more innovative rappers in the game today, but also one of the more innovative producers in hip-hop. Off-key piano chords flourish at the onset of the track. Suddenly, the earth feels as if it's about to erupt as his case of veteran status isn’t something to be ignored: “Sucka I’m prominent, I was anonymous / I been in front of you every time,” he raps a kind of teaser to what he’s always put forth in his more abrasive tracks like “Baby, I’m Bleeding,” but he then rightfully brings you back into the serenity of those piano flourishes. In this version of JPEGMAFIA, he attempts to preach composure even if that itch for a slaughtering tries to break loose.

Despite Peggy’s penchant for calling people out, there’s still a humility in his nature that makes his music more approachable for newer listeners on this record. In some way, he’s become more of a poptimist where his singing can even render one to smile listening to playful tracks like “Grimy Waifu,” “BBW,” and the title track. On “BBW” he sings “Still can’t believe I’m getting paid for this art today,” a sign of gratefulness for the dedication that he’s put into making music the past decade. On “Feel the Frail” he vents his pressures of being a more recognized artist. He sings "Don’t rely on the strength of my image, hey / If it’s good, then it’s good / Break it down, this shit is outta my hands” to tell himself that whatever acclaim comes his way, he’ll always have his primary hustle. He’s already claimed on his album teaser videos interviewing other musicians (James Blake, Jeff Tweedy, Denzel Curry) that the new record was going to be disappointing to people. It might be a defence mechanism to protect himself from the backlash, but I think that many fans would claim otherwise and appreciate the work and the product. On the Vancouver date of the JPEGMAFIA type tour, I witnessed a good chunk of the turbulent crowd sing along in glee with Peggy where this communal spectacle indicated his penchant for hooks and joy in the music. Nevertheless, he still manages to sneak in his rage on every track, still the primary reason fans were attracted to his music in the first place.

At the end of the verse of “Jesus Forgive Me, I Am A Thot,” JPEGMAFIA pours his heart out as he raps “I put my soul into every bar / Into every verse / Into every rhyme” not at all a plea for attention to his dedication, but a convincingly genuine expression of his art. He might be a rap veteran in all sense of the word, but there’s still so much time for him to put out the best music that he possibly can in the next upcoming decade.

#hip-hop #album review #jpegmafia #all my heroes are cornballs #rap #music review #music

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interestingshitonmadikomgezrapou · 5 years

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"On The Pleasure Of Hating" (c.1826)

THERE is a spider crawling along the matted floor of the room where I sit (not the one which has been so well allegorised in the admirable Lines to a Spider, but another of the same edifying breed); he runs with heedless, hurried haste, he hobbles awkwardly towards me, he stops -- he sees the giant shadow before him, and, at a loss whether to retreat or proceed, meditates his huge foe -- but as I do not start up and seize upon the straggling caitiff, as he would upon a hapless fly within his toils, he takes heart, and ventures on with mingled cunning, impudence and fear. As he passes me, I lift up the matting to assist his escape, am glad to get rid of the unwelcome intruder, and shudder at the recollection after he is gone. A child, a woman, a clown, or a moralist a century ago, would have crushed the little reptile to death-my philosophy has got beyond that -- I bear the creature no ill-will, but still I hate the very sight of it. The spirit of malevolence survives the practical exertion of it. We learn to curb our will and keep our overt actions within the bounds of humanity, long before we can subdue our sentiments and imaginations to the same mild tone. We give up the external demonstration, the brute violence, but cannot part with the essence or principle of hostility. We do not tread upon the poor little animal in question (that seems barbarous and pitiful!) but we regard it with a sort of mystic horror and superstitious loathing. It will ask another hundred years of fine writing and hard thinking to cure us of the prejudice and make us feel towards this ill-omened tribe with something of "the milk of human kindness," instead of their own shyness and venom.

Nature seems (the more we look into it) made up of antipathies: without something to hate, we should lose the very spring of thought and action. Life would turn to a stagnant pool, were it not ruffled by the jarring interests, the unruly passions, of men. The white streak in our own fortunes is brightened (or just rendered visible) by making all around it as dark as possible; so the rainbow paints its form upon the cloud. Is it pride? Is it envy? Is it the force of contrast? Is it weakness or malice? But so it is, that there is a secret affinity, a hankering after, evil in the human mind, and that it takes a perverse, but a fortunate delight in mischief, since it is a never-failing source of satisfaction. Pure good soon grows insipid, wants variety and spirit. Pain is a bittersweet, wants variety and spirit. Love turns, with a little indulgence, to indifference or disgust: hatred alone is immortal. Do we not see this principle at work everywhere? Animals torment and worry one another without mercy: children kill flies for sport: every one reads the accidents and offences in a newspaper as the cream of the jest: a whole town runs to be present at a fire, and the spectator by no means exults to see it extinguished. It is better to have it so, but it diminishes the interest; and our feelings take part with our passions rather than with our understandings. Men assemble in crowds, with eager enthusiasm, to witness a tragedy: but if there were an execution going forward in the next street, as Mr. Burke observes, the theater would be left empty. A strange cur in a village, an idiot, a crazy woman, are set upon and baited by the whole community. Public nuisances are in the nature of public benefits. How long did the Pope, the Bourbons, and the Inquisition keep the people of England in breath, and supply them with nicknames to vent their spleen upon! Had they done us any harm of late? No: but we have always a quantity of superfluous bile upon the stomach, and we wanted an object to let it out upon. How loth were we to give up our pious belief in ghosts and witches, because we liked to persecute the one, and frighten ourselves to death with the other! It is not the quality so much as the quantity of excitement that we are anxious about: we cannot bear a state of indifference and ennui: the mind seems to abhor a vacuum as much as ever nature was supposed to do. Even when the spirit of the age (that is, the progress of intellectual refinement, warring with our natural infirmities) no longer allows us to carry our vindictive and head strong humours into effect, we try to revive them in description, and keep up the old bugbears, the phantoms of our terror and our hate, in imagination. We burn Guy Fawx in effigy, and the hooting and buffeting and maltreating that poor tattered figure of rags and straw makes a festival in every village in England once a year. Protestants and Papists do not now burn one another at the stake: but we subscribe to new editions of Fox's Book of Martyrs; and the secret of the success of the Scotch Novels is much the same-they carry us back to the feuds, the heart-burnings, the havoc, the dismay, the wrongs, and the revenge of a barbarous age and people-to the rooted prejudices and deadly animosities of sects and parties in politics and religion, and of contending chiefs and clans in war and intrigue. We feel the full force of the spirit of hatred with all of them in turn. As we read, we throw aside the trammels of civilization, the flimsy veil of humanity. "Off, you lendings!" The wild beast resumes its sway within us, we feel like hunting animals, and as the hound starts in his sleep and rushes on the chase in fancy the heart rouses itself in its native lair, and utters a wild cry of joy, at being restored once more to freedom and lawless unrestrained impulses. Every one has his full swing, or goes to the Devil his own way. Here are no Jeremy Bentham Panopticons, none of Mr. Owen's impassable Parallelograms1 (Rob Roy would have spurred and poured a thousand curses on them), no long calculations of self-interest -- the will takes its instant way to its object, as the mountain-torrent flings itself over the precipice: the greatest possible good of each individual consists in doing all the mischief he can to his neighbour: that is charming, and finds a sure and sympathetic chord in every breast! So Mr. Irving2, the celebrated preacher, has rekindled the old, original, almost exploded hell-fire in the aisles of the Caledonian Chapel, as they introduce the real water of the New River at Sadler's Wells, to the delight and astonishment of his fair audience. 'Tis pretty, though a plague, to sit and peep into the pit of Tophet, to play at snap-dragon with flames and brimstone (it gives a smart electrical shock, a lively filip to delicate constitutions), and to see Mr. Irving, like a huge Titan, looking as grim and swarthy as if he had to forge tortures for all the damned! What a strange being man is! Not content with doing all he can to vex and hurt his fellows here, "upon this bank and shoal of time," where one would think there were heartaches, pain, disappointment, anguish, tears, sighs, and groans enough, the bigoted maniac takes him to the top of the high peak of school divinity to hurl him down the yawning gulf of penal fire; his speculative malice asks eternity to wreak its infinite spite in, and calls on the Almighty to execute its relentless doom! The cannibals burn their enemies and eat them in good-fellowship with one another: meed Christian divines cast those who differ from them but a hair's-breadth, body and soul into hellfire for the glory of God and the good of His creatures! It is well that the power of such persons is not co-ordinate with their wills: indeed it is from the sense of their weakness and inability to control the opinions of others, that they thus "outdo termagant," and endeavour to frighten them into conformity by big words and monstrous denunciations.

The pleasure of hating, like a poisonous mineral, eats into the heart of religion, and turns it to rankling spleen and bigotry; it makes patriotism an excuse for carrying fire, pestilence, and famine into other lands: it leaves to virtue nothing but the spirit of censoriousness, and a narrow, jealous, inquisitorial watchfulness over the actions and motives of others. What have the different sects, creeds, doctrines in religion been but so many pretexts set up for men to wrangle, to quarrel, to tear one another in pieces about, like a target as a mark to shoot at? Does any one suppose that the love of country in an Englishman implies any friendly feeling or disposition to serve another bearing the same name? No, it means only hatred to the French or the inhabitants of any other country that we happen to be at war with for the time. Does the love of virtue denote any wish to discover or amend our own faults? No, but it atones for an obstinate adherence to our own vices by the most virulent intolerance to human frailties. This principle is of a most universal application. It extends to good as well as evil: if it makes us hate folly, it makes us no less dissatisfied with distinguished merit. If it inclines us to resent the wrongs of others, it impels us to be as impatient of their prosperity. We revenge injuries: we repay benefits with ingratitude. Even our strongest partialities and likings soon take this turn. "That which was luscious as locusts, anon becomes bitter as coloquintida;" and love and friendship melt in their own fires. We hate old friends: we hate old books: we hate old opinions; and at last we come to hate ourselves.

I have observed that few of those whom I have formerly known most intimate, continue on the same friendly footing, or combine the steadiness with the warmth of attachment. I have been acquainted with two or three knots of inseparable companions, who saw each other "six days in the week;" that have been broken up and dispersed. I have quarrelled with almost all my old friends' (they might say this is owing to my bad temper, but) they have also quarrelled with one another. What is become of "that set of whist-players," celebrated by Elia in his notable Epistle to Robert Southey, Esq.3 (and now I think of it - that I myself have celebrated in this very volume4) "that for so many years called Admiral Burney friend?" They are scattered, like last year's snow. Some of them are dead, or gone to live at a distance, or pass one another in the street like strangers, or if they stop to speak, do it as coolly and try to cut one another as soon as possible. Some of us have grown rich, others poor. Some have got places under Government, others a niche in the Quarterly Review. Some of us have dearly earned a name in the world; whilst others remain in their original privacy. We despise the one, and envy and are glad to mortify the other. Times are changed; we cannot revive our old feelings; and we avoid the sight, and are uneasy in the presence of, those who remind us of our infirmity, and put us upon an effort at seeming cordiality which embarrasses ourselves, and does not impose upon our quondam associates. Old friendships are like meats served up repeatedly, cold, comfortless, and distasteful. The stomach turns against them. Either constant intercourse and familiarity breed weariness and contempt; if we meet again after an interval of absence, we appear no longer the same. One is too wise, another too foolish, for us; and we wonder we did not find this out before. We are disconcerted and kept in a state of continual alarm by the wit of one, or tired to death of the dullness of another. The good things of the first (besides leaving strings behind them) by repetition grow stale, and lose their startling effect; and the insipidity of the last becomes intolerable. The most amusing or instructive companion is best like a favorite volume, that we wish after a time to lay upon the shelf; but as our friends are not willing to be laid there, this produces a misunderstanding and ill-blood between us. Or if the zeal and integrity of friendship is not abated, or its career interrupted by any obstacle arising out of its own nature, we look out for other subjects of complaint and sources of dissatisfaction. We begin to criticize each other's dress, looks, general character. "Such a one is a pleasant fellow, but it is a pity he sits so late!" Another fails to keep his appointments, and that is a sore that never heals. We get acquainted with some fashionable young men or with a mistress, and wish to introduce our friend; but be is awkward and a sloven, the interview does not answer, and this throws cold water on our intercourse. Or he makes himself obnoxious to opinion; and we shrink from our own convictions on the subject as an excuse for not defending him. All or any of these causes mount up in time to a ground of coolness or irritation; and at last they break out into open violence as the only amends we can make ourselves for suppressing them so long, or the readiest means of banishing recollections of former kindness so little compatible with our present feelings. We may try to tamper with the wounds or patch up the carcase of departed friendship; but the one will hardly bear the handling, and the other is not worth the trouble of embalming! The only way to be reconciled to old friends is to part with them for good: at a distance we may chance to be thrown back ( in a waking dream) upon old times and old feelings: or at any rate we should not think of renewing our intimacy, till we have fairly spit our spite or said, thought, and felt all the ill we can of each other. Or if we can pick a quarrel with some one else, and make him the scape-goat, this is an excellent contrivance to heal a broken bone. I think I must be friends with Lamb again, since he has written that magnanimous Letter to Southey, and told him a piece of his mind! I don't know what it is that attaches me to H---so much, except that he and I, whenever we meet, sit in judgment on another set of old friends, and "carve them as a dish fit for the Gods". There with L [Leigh Hunt], John Scott, Mrs. [Montagu], whose dark raven locks make a picturesque background to our discourse, B---, who is grown fat, and is, they say, married, R[ickman]; these had all separated long ago, and their foibles are the common link that holds us together.5 We do not affect to condole or whine over their follies; we enjoy, we laugh at them, till we are ready to burst our sides, "sans intermissions for hours by the dial." We serve up a course of anecdotes, traits, master-strokes of character, and cut and hack at them till we are weary. Perhaps some of them are even with us. For my own part, as I once said, I like a friend the better for having faults that one can talk about. "Then," said Mrs. [Montagu], " you will cease to be a philanthropist!" Those in question were some of the choice-spirits of the age, not "fellows of no mark or likelihood'; and we so far did them justice: but it is well they did not hear what we sometimes said of them. I care little what any one says of me, particularly behind my back, and in the way of critical and analytical discussion: it is looks of dislike and scorn that I answer with the worst venom of my pen. The expression of the face wounds me more than the expressions of the tongue. If I have in one instance mistaken this expression, or resorted to this remedy where I ought not, I am sorry for it. But the face was too fine over which it mantled, and I am too old to have misunderstood it!...I sometimes go up to -----'s; and as often as I do, resolve never to go again. I do not find the old homely welcome. The ghost of friendship meets me at the door, and sits with me all dinner-time. They have got a set of fine notions and new acquaintances. Allusions to past occurrences are thought trivial, nor is it always safe to touch upon more general subjects. M. does not begin as he formerly did every five minutes, "Fawcett used to say," &c. That topic is something worn. The girls are grown up, and have a thousand accomplishments. I perceive there is a jealousy on both sides. They think I give myself airs, and I fancy the same of them. Every time I am asked, "If I do not think Mr. Washington Irving a very fine writer?" I shall not go again till I receive an invitation for Christmas Day in company with Mr. Liston. The only intimacy I never found to flinch or fade was a purely intellectual one. There was none of the cant of candour in it, none of the whine of mawkish sensibility. Our mutual acquaintance were considered merely as subjects of conversation and knowledge, not all of affection. We regarded them no more in our experiments than "mice in an air-pump:" or like malefactors, they were regularly cut down and given over to the dissecting-knife. We spared neither friend nor foe. We sacrificed human infirmities at the shrine of truth. The skeletons of character might be seen, after the juice was extracted, dangling in the air like flies in cobwebs; or they were kept for future inspection in some refined acid. The demonstration was as beautiful as it was new. There is no surfeiting on gall: nothing keeps so well as a decoction of spleen. We grow tired of every thing but turning others into ridicule, and congratulating ourselves on their defects.

We take a dislike to our favourite books, after a time, for the same reason. We cannot read the same works for ever. Our honey-moon, even though we wed the Muse, must come to an end; and is followed by indifference, if not by disgust. There are some works, those indeed that produce the most striking effect at first by novelty and boldness of outline, that will not bear reading twice: others of a less extravagant character, and that excite and repay attention by a greater nicety of details, have hardly interest enough to keep alive our continued enthusiasm. The popularity of the most successful writers operates to wean us from them, by the cant and fuss that is made about them, by hearing their names everlastingly repeated, and by the number of ignorant and indiscriminate admirers they draw after them: - we as little like to have to drag others from their unmerited obscurity, lest we should be exposed to the charge of affectation and singularity of taste. There is nothing to be said respecting an author that all the world have made up their minds about: it is a thankless as well as hopeless task to recommend one that nobody has ever heard of. To cry up Shakespear as the god of our idolatry, seems like a vulgar national prejudice: to take down a volume of Chaucer, or Spenser, or Beaumont and Fletcher, or Ford, or Marlowe, has very much the look of pedantry and egotism. I confess it makes me hate the very name of Fame and Genius, when works like these are "gone into the wastes of time," while each successive generation of fools is busily employed in reading the trash of the day, and women of fashion gravely join with their waiting-maids in discussing the preference between the Paradise Lost and Mr. Moore's Loves of the Angels. I was pleased the other day on going into a shop to ask, "If they had any of the Scotch Novels?" to be told - "That they had just sent out the last, Sir Andrew Wylie!" - Mr. Galt will also be pleased with this answer! The reputation of some books is raw and unaired: that of others is worm-eaten and mouldy. Why fix our affections on that which we cannot bring ourselves to have faith in, or which others have long ceased to trouble themselves about? I am half afraid to look into Tom Jones, lest it should not answer my expectations at this time of day; and if it did not, I would certainly be disposed to fling it into the fire, and never look into another novel while I lived. But surely, it may be said, there are some works that, like nature, can never grow old; and that must always touch the imagination and passions alike! Or there are passages that seem as if we might brood over them all our lives, and not exhaust the sentiments of love and admiration they excite: they become favourites, and we are fond of them to a sort of dotage. Here is one:

---"Sitting in my window

Printing my thoughts in lawn, I saw a god,

I thought (but it was you), enter our gates;

My blood flew out and back again, as fast

As I had puffed it forth and sucked it in

Like breath; then was I called away in haste

To entertain you: never was a man

Thrust from a sheepcote to a sceptre, raised

So high in thoughts as I; you left a kiss

Upon these lips then, which I mean to keep

From you for ever. I did hear you talk

Far above singing!"A passage like this, indeed, leaves a taste on the palate like nectar, and we seem in reading it to sit with the Gods at their golden tables: but if we repeat it often in ordinary moods, it loses its flavour, becomes vapid, "the wine of poetry is drank, and but the lees remain." Or, on the other hand, if we call in the air of extraordinary circumstances to set it off to advantage, as the reciting it to a friend, or after having our feelings excited by a long walk in some romantic situation, or while we---"play with Amaryllis in the shade,

Or with the tangles of Neaera's hair"---we afterwards miss the accompanying circumstances, and instead of transferring the recollection of them to the favourable side, regret what we have lost, and strive in vain to bring back "the irrevocable hour" - wondering in some instances how we survive it, and at the melancholy blank that is left behind! The pleasure rises to its height in some moment of calm solitude or intoxicating sympathy, declines ever after, and from the comparison and conscious falling-off, leaves rather a sense of satiety and irksomeness behind it... "Is it the same in pictures?" I confess it is, with all but those from Titian's hand. I don't know why, but an air breathes from his landscapes, pure, refreshing, as if it came from other years; there is a look in his faces that never passes away. I saw one the other day. Amidst the heartless desolation and glittering finery of Fonthill, there is a portfolio of the Dresden Gallery. It opens, and a young female head looks from it; a child, yet woman grown; with an air of rustic innocence and the graces of a princess, her eyes like those of doves, the lips about to open, a smile of pleasure dimpling the whole face, the jewels sparkling in her crisped hair, her youthful shape compressed in a rich antique dress, as the bursting leaves contain the April buds! Why do I not call up this image of gentle sweetness, and place it as a perpetual barrier between mischance and me? - It is because pleasure asks a greater effort of the mind to support it than pain; and we turn after a little idle dalliance from what we love to what we hate!

As to my old opinions, I am heartily sick of them. I have reason, for they have deceived me sadly. I was taught to think, and I was willing to believe, that genius was not a bawd, that virtue was not a mask, that liberty was not a name, that love had its seat in the human heart. Now I would care little if these words were struck out of the dictionary, or if I had never heard them. They are become to my ears a mockery and a dream. Instead of patriots and friends of freedom, I see nothing but the tyrant and the slave, the people linked with kings to rivet on the chains of despotism and superstition. I see folly join with knavery, and together make up public spirit and public opinions. I see the insolent Tory, the blind Reformer, the coward Whig! If mankind had wished for what is right, they might have had it long ago. The theory is plain enough; but they are prone to mischief, "to every good work reprobate." I have seen all that had been done by the mighty yearnings of the spirit and intellect of men, "of whom the world was not worthy," and that promised a proud opening to truth and good through the vista of future years, undone by one man, with just glimmering of understanding enough to feel that he was a king, but not to comprehend how he could be king of a free people! I have seen this triumph celebrated by poets, the friends of my youth and the friends of men, but who were carried away by the infuriate tide that, setting in from a throne, bore down every distinction of right reason before it; and I have seen all those who did not join in applauding this insult and outrage on humanity proscribed, hunted down (they and their friends made a byword of), so that it has become an understood thing that no one can live by his talents or knowledge who is not ready to prostitute those talents and that knowledge to betray his species, and prey upon his fellow- man. "This was some time a mystery: but the time gives evidence of it." The echoes of liberty had awakened once more in Spain, and the mornings of human hope dawned again: but that dawn has been overcast by the foul breath of bigotry, and those reviving sounds stifled by fresh cries from the time-rent towers of the Inquisition - man yielding (as it is fit he should) first to brute force, but more to the innate perversity and dastard spirit of his own nature which leaves no room for farther hope or disappointment. And England, that arch-reformer, that heroic deliverer, that mouther about liberty, and tool of power, stands gaping by, not feeling the blight and mildew coming over it, nor its very bones crack and turn to a paste under the grasp and circling folds of this new monster, Legitimacy! In private life do we not see hypocrisy, servility, selfishness, folly, and impudence succeed, while modesty shrinks from the encounter, and merit is trodden under foot? How often is "the rose plucked from the forehead of a virtuous love to plant a blister there!" What chance is there of the success of real passion? What certainty of its continuance? Seeing all this as I do, and unravelling the web of human life into its various threads of meanness, spite, cowardice, want of feeling, and want of understanding, of indifference towards others, and ignorance of ourselves, - seeing custom prevail over all excellence, itself giving way to infamy - mistaken as I have been in my public and private hopes, calculating others from myself, and calculating wrong; always disappointed where I placed most reliance; the dupe of friendship, and the fool of love; - have I not reason to hate and to despise myself? Indeed I do; and chiefly for not having hated and despised the world enough.

_______________________________

FOOTNOTES:

[1]

Panopticons was the name given by

Bentham

to a proposed form of prison of circular shape having cells built round and fully exposed towards a central well, from which the jail keepers could at all times observe the prisoners.

Robert Owen

was the first in a line of 19th century socialists who in fact carried out experiments at his cotton mills at New Lanark mill where he erected a block of buildings in the form of a parallelogram to house the workers.

[2] Hazlitt refers to Edward Irving (1792-34), the Scottish divine and mystic who took over the Caledonian Church, Hatton Garden, London, and where he enjoyed a phenomenal success as a preacher.

[3] Lamb's Epistle to Robert Southey, Esq., was published in the London Magazine, Oct. 1823. See my page on Robert Southey.

[4] "On the Conversations of Authors" by Hazlitt and which first appeared in Sep. of 1820, and which was in his book of essays, The Plain Speaker (1826).

[5] Hazlitt seems to be referring to most of those who gathered at Lamb's house, c. 1808, more Lamb's friends than Hazlitt's: Captain Burney, Martin, his son; Wm. Ayrton, musician; James White, treasurer at Christ's Hospital; John Rickman, clerk to the speaker; Edward "Ned" Phillips, another clerk and Rickman's successor; Geo. Dyer; Joseph Hume; et al. One could have seen them at the residence of Charles and Mary Lamb where they met every Wednesday night; for discussion, cribbage and whist.

#on the pleasure of hating

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coscloud · 2 years

Text

Creative Act: Final Project

Entry One

I’d split the sky in two.

Just so I can talk to you

Maybe get a chance to say goodbye

Hello, I miss you

Still,

I wonder how many times you’ve walked the moon

Or picked tulips and thought of me

Faith is what holds me together these days

An immortal question, of why you,

Of why your encumbrances

of mortality had failed you,

Why Lazarus was restored existence

And you, a fatal end ?

Withal, I wish to find hope immersed in doom,

Obliteration.

Why did god take you so soon ?

Thinking of you, only opens my eye

Intuiting, that he has never taken you from me

Only a state of physicality

But we remain tied spiritually.

Sometimes on sultry summer days I can feel you

within the warmth of the breeze.

Wrap me once more in your love

I long to feel your presence again.

Entry Two

How far do clouds live from the sky,

Do they live in the sky anyway ?

I’d like to think of you in that narrative,

And How far you’ve drifted from my heart.

From this home.

Created from limbs of our love

The fleeting white beneath the blue,

Averting from fluorescence.

Have you ever reveled within my grasp ?

Or did you find me to be occupancy for your absence

Of mind, of soul.

Of love.

Clouds are always forging ahead

Never stopping to realize the sun.

Not for her scintillating beauty,

The endless affinity emerging.

My unsolicited love

Pours out.

And Dries up.

Even if the sun renders them pink

Even when she scatters her light along the atmosphere

The clouds Proceed

And no amount of love,

Or light,

Could ever make you stay.

Entry Three

We are alone

And although

It seems as if dreams are from afar,

They are closer than they appear.

Closing my eyes to see you,

Then opening to see me.

I am undoing,

Coming undone

Within the thought of not having you.

To hold, to touch.

Flying to morning

Has only brought me thunder.

Flying to morning

Has only brought me night.

And me and darkness,

Darkness and I,

have grown accustomed.

Forgetting about the light.

Entry Four

If I could live anywhere else.

Anywhere else at all.

I’d live in the sky.

Shit,

If I had a wish,

It’d be to go at this very moment.

I promise,

I would never look back.

Sometimes,

I feel like I don’t relate to this world.

That I’d be better tangled in trees

Gossiping with the stars about the moon.

I just feel like I am never really here

Never really wanting this.

Though I thank you for it everyday.

Sometimes it’s too serious,

Too heavy,

Too hurtful.

But I push through anyway.

Entry Five

I carved out my stomach

Just to breathe easier.

But,

Filled my lungs with smoke

Just to kill the air.

I’ve tried bleaching

Perennial Shades that have stained me,

to return my hue

The purest pigment.

But I’ve only made them clear.

I don’t see the beauty anyway.

Just a rotting carcass defining survival.

Swallowing joy’s nucleus.

Mourning pale lit mornings,

Sincere Prayers to moonless skies.

She ribboned her mystery

And sold it to the world.

The sky and the ocean have muddled.

And the silver lining

Is nickel.

Still,

Clinging on to the gold pieces

In my right pocket,

I’d give my sights just to

See your soul.

Cause though ravaged,

You have pitted in me

The most beautiful composition

A symphony of the prettiest words,

But a tragic poem of abject pain.

Laced together,

One foot forward

I leave the other behind.

I’d leave my mind on my windowsill if I could.

Water and feed it just enough.

Or watch as it wilted in the sun.

Brainless I'd wander in my shadow

A stray silhouette against a blue night sky In a silence, I have never known.

Entry Six

In a constant state of war when it comes to you.

Oil and water were never meant to fuse.

But still

be stronger if they’d collide.

My spirit battles my flesh

As I dance within the realms,

of reality and spirituality.

Trying to find an even ground

Balance.

Between who I am

And who he needs me to be.

And what he chooses for me

I just hope you choose right

Cause I’d split in half.

If things aren’t what I’ve spent

moon phases crying to you about.

And if my secrets were laid out like cloths.

I know you’d bleed out.

Just to stain my whispers.

As you’ve done too many times.

Repaid with an unrelenting knife

To your back

This life was never meant to be my own

It was purpose driven

Engineered by your seedless will.

Of way,

Of life.

True, endless, unconditional love

I’ll soon learn that

This love will be the purest kind

I’ll ever know.

Entry Seven

I can’t believe the words touched me as deep.

Until it became a resounding echo inside

Shivers squirmed up my body

As it grabbed a hold of the words

that flowed past my lips.

A few tears shed,

Of trounce.

What I’d felt when the hatred,

I’ve tried to withhold came crumbling down

I had loved you too much even after

Our palace had washed away.

I muttered I forgive you

Shedding some of me away

Stitching all the wounds you have left open

Allowing me to, finally, sow myself together

Again,

I am whole.

Entry Eight

I always seem to turn to you when my sky

Puzzles

And stars release rain.

Never when my clouds are pink

And my seas are calm.

What kind of inconsistency

Developed with in me

Within the entirety of my entity,

Of my energy.

Knowing it all belongs to you.

I know I’m not perfect

And I always raise my praise

When the sun tickles my face in the morning.

Yet somehow,

I won’t feel complete knowing that

This walk hasn’t been the path

You’ve highlighted for me

That I’d have to climb mountains

Without you by my side

You are the reason for exhales,

Inhaling the life

I am so blessed to receive these days…everyday

Cause 24 hours aren’t promised

But you’ve given me 21 years.

And that’s more than what my brothers have seen.

Entry Nine

As I flowered.

I couldn’t help but remember

The spoiling seed I once was.

Rotting away

For a waning love.

Twining myself into….

Shrinking myself into the tiniest

Cupboards, doors and glass windows

Until I’d blaze.

Into a blowing gale

Of hate and hurt,

Conceived harrowing balls of inferno .

And then a calm storm.

Like rainfalls.

You coiled me up into the tightest rope

Until I couldn’t feel who I was,

the warmth of life.

Only the bleak winds that fostered my soul

And lullabied the torment

Of an empty mold.

A muffled cry of vigilance

Is what could’ve salvaged,

The nights of sorrow.

But remaining frozen hurt less than thawing

And I couldn’t help but cradle our callow love.

Resuscitating death into its lungs over and over.

I tried desperately to purify these revulsive roots

That once flourished out of lust and devotion

With desperate pleads to midnight skies.

Sanctified in the River of Jordan

To grant life anew

This flame would never survive

The showers of desire

Nor burn through the flesh of man's true virtue.

We’d wallow away into the abysmal end

Until I’d define the stripped crux

Within the bowels of my pneuma.

This fall from the gates has burgeoned me wings.

That will never fail me

Or let me descend for the love of anyone again

Entry Ten

I will generate frequencies that can be felt internally, eternally.

You will bask in this glory

Wallow in the waves of my exquisite vibrations

It has taken the sacrifice of myself

To truly grasp and gain who I am destined to be

Reborn again

Replenished.

Recharged.

A shift in an accustomed formula

Specially designed to remain constant.

Stagnant.

I am flourishing far beyond things you doubted I could reach

Succeeding in ways you thought I wouldn’t.

The world revolves around what I allow

And that’s not you anymore.

I’ve decided that it’s me.

What existed as a blank canvas

Is now the finished product.

And The masterpiece...

Is me. My iridescence triumphs, Inevitably.

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makerof150papermasks · 6 years

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Hamlet Mariofied Act 1 Scene 5

Boldened names refer to the Mario characters playing the roles. The character role names remain in the context of the play and its dialogue.

Mario = Hamlet

Donkey Kong = Ghost

Luigi = Horatio

Yoshi = Marcellus

Act I, Scene 5

Elsinore. The Castle. Another part of the fortifications.

Enter Donkey Kong and Mario, set to the level start jingle from the Donkey Kong arcade game.

Mario. Whither wilt thou lead me? Speak! I'll go no further.

DK. Mark me.

Hamlet. I will.

Donkey Kong. My hour is almost come,

When I to sulph'rous and tormenting flames

Must render up myself.

Mario. Alas, poor ghost!

DK. Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing

To what I shall unfold.

Mario. Speak. I am bound to hear.

DK. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear.

Mario. What?

DK. I am thy father's spirit,

Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night,

And for the day confin'd to fast in fires,

Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature

Are burnt and purg'd away. But that I am forbid

To tell the secrets of my prison house,

I could a tale unfold whose lightest word

Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,

Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,

Thy knotted and combined locks to part,

And each particular hair to stand on end

Like quills upon the fretful porcupine.

But this eternal blazon must not be

To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list!

If thou didst ever thy dear father love-

Mario. O God!

DK. Revenge his foul and most unnatural murther.

Mario. Murther?

DK. Murther most foul, as in the best it is;

But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.

Mario. Haste me to know't, that I, with wings as swift

As meditation or the thoughts of love,

May sweep to my revenge.

DK. I find thee apt;

And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed

That rots itself in ease on Lethe wharf,

Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear.

'Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard,

A serpent stung me. So the whole ear of Denmark

Is by a forged process of my death

Rankly abus'd. But know, thou noble youth,

The serpent that did sting thy father's life

Now wears his crown.

Mario. O my prophetic soul!

My uncle?

DK. Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, (Flashback begins of Donkey Kong and Bowser sitting against the Cheep-chomp fountain in front of the castle)

With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts-

O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power

So to seduce!- won to his shameful lust

The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen.

O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there, (Continuing with the flashback, Bowser reaches into his shell and grabs a banana tainted with Bowser Jr’s paint goop, then turns to hand the gift to a hapless Donkey Kong)

From me, whose love was of that dignity

That it went hand in hand even with the vow

I made to her in marriage, and to decline

Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor

To those of mine!

But virtue, as it never will be mov'd,

Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven,

So lust, though to a radiant angel link'd,

Will sate itself in a celestial bed

And prey on garbage. (As Donkey Kong proceeds to stomach the banana Bowser lent him, a tremor quakes within, causing the then-king to begin exhaling swoopin’ stus and a towering black Polluted Piranha before falling to his death)

But soft! methinks I scent the morning air.

Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard,

My custom always of the afternoon,

Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole,

With juice of cursed hebona in a vial,

And in the porches of my ears did pour

The leperous distilment; whose effect

Holds such an enmity with blood of man

That swift as quicksilver it courses through

The natural gates and alleys of the body,

And with a sudden vigour it doth posset

And curd, like eager droppings into milk,

The thin and wholesome blood. So did it mine;

And a most instant tetter bark'd about,

Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust

All my smooth body.

Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand

Of life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd;

Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,

Unhous'led, disappointed, unanel'd,

No reckoning made, but sent to my account (After extinguishing the grime expelled by the now-deceased Donkey Kong, Bowser crouches by the body to appear as though he mourns, thus ending the flashback)

With all my imperfections on my head.

Mario. O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible!

DK. If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not.

Let not the royal bed of Denmark be

A couch for luxury and damned incest.

But, howsoever thou pursuest this act,

Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive

Against thy mother aught. Leave her to heaven,

And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge

To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once.

The glowworm shows the matin to be near

And gins to pale his uneffectual fire.

Adieu, adieu, adieu! Remember me. Exit.

Mario. O all you host of heaven! O earth! What else?

And shall I couple hell? Hold, hold, my heart!

And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,

But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee?

Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat

In this distracted globe. Remember thee?

Yea, from the table of my memory

I'll wipe away all trivial fond records,

All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past

That youth and observation copied there,

And thy commandment all alone shall live

Within the book and volume of my brain,

Unmix'd with baser matter. Yes, by heaven!

O most pernicious woman!

O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!

My tables! Meet it is I set it down

That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;

At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark. [Writes.]

So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word:

It is 'Adieu, adieu! Remember me.'

I have sworn't.

Luigi. [within] My lord, my lord!

Enter Luigi and Yoshi.

Yoshi. Lord Hamlet!

Luigi. Heaven secure him!

Mario. So be it!

Yoshi. Illo, ho, ho, my lord!

Mario. Hillo, ho, ho, boy! Come, bird, come.

Yoshi. How is't, my noble lord?

Luigi. What news, my lord?

Yoshi. O, wonderful!

Luigi. Good my lord, tell it.

Mario. No, you will reveal it.

Luigi. Not I, my lord, by heaven!

Yoshi. Nor I, my lord.

Mario. How say you then? Would heart of man once think it?

But you'll be secret?

Yoshi. [with Luigi] Ay, by heaven, my lord.

Mario. There's neer a villain dwelling in all Denmark

But he's an arrant knave.

Luigi. There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave

To tell us this.

Mario. Why, right! You are in the right!

And so, without more circumstance at all,

I hold it fit that we shake hands and part;

You, as your business and desires shall point you,

For every man hath business and desire,

Such as it is; and for my own poor part,

Look you, I'll go pray.

Luigi. These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.

Mario. I am sorry they offend you, heartily;

Yes, faith, heartily.

Luigi. There's no offence, my lord.

Mario. Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio,

And much offence too. Touching this vision here,

It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you.

For your desire to know what is between us,

O'ermaster't as you may. And now, good friends,

As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers,

Give me one poor request.

Luigi. What is't, my lord? We will.

Mario. Never make known what you have seen to-night.

Yoshi. [with Luigi] My lord, we will not.

Mario. Nay, but swear't.

Luigi. In faith,

My lord, not I.

Yoshi. Nor I, my lord- in faith.

Mario. Upon my sword.

Yoshi. We have sworn, my lord, already.

Mario. Indeed, upon my sword, indeed.

Donkey Kong cries under the stage.

DK. Swear.

Mario. Aha boy, say'st thou so? Art thou there, truepenny?

Come on! You hear this fellow in the cellarage.

Consent to swear.

Luigi. Propose the oath, my lord.

Mario. Never to speak of this that you have seen.

Swear by my sword.

DK. [beneath] Swear.

Mario. Hic et ubique? Then we'll shift our ground.

Come hither, gentlemen,

And lay your hands again upon my sword.

Never to speak of this that you have heard:

Swear by my sword.

DK. [beneath] Swear by his sword.

Mario. Well said, old mole! Canst work i' th' earth so fast?

A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends."

Luigi. O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!

Mario. And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,

Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

But come!

Here, as before, never, so help you mercy,

How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself

(As I perchance hereafter shall think meet

To put an antic disposition on),

That you, at such times seeing me, never shall,

With arms encumb'red thus, or this head-shake,

Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,

As 'Well, well, we know,' or 'We could, an if we would,'

Or 'If we list to speak,' or 'There be, an if they might,'

Or such ambiguous giving out, to note

That you know aught of me- this is not to do,

So grace and mercy at your most need help you,

Swear.

DK. [beneath] Swear.

[They swear.]

Mario. Rest, rest, perturbed spirit! So, gentlemen,

With all my love I do commend me to you;

And what so poor a man as Hamlet is

May do t' express his love and friending to you,

God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together;

And still your fingers on your lips, I pray.

The time is out of joint. O cursed spite

That ever I was born to set it right!

Nay, come, let's go together. (Leaps forward and sails into the air as his accomplices take suit, while Donkey Kong watches with anticipation before utterly dissipating)

Exeunt.

#Mario #Hamlet #Shakespeare #From now on I'll make it a little more interesting #Super mario #Donkey Kong #Luigi #Yoshi

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pamphletstoinspire · 6 years

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The Church's Year - INSTRUCTION ON THE FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

At the Introit implore God's assistance and say, with the priest:

INTROIT Hear, O Lord, my voice with which I have cried to thee: be thou my helper, forsake me not, nor do Thou despise me, O god, my Savior. (Ps. XXVI.) The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? Glory be to the Father, etc.

COLLECT O God, who host prepared invisible good things for those that love Thee: pour into our hearts such a sense of Thy love, that we, loving Thee in all, and above all, may obtain Thy promises, which exceed all out desire: Through etc.

EPISTLE (I Peter III. 8-15.) Dearly beloved, Be ye all of one mind, having compassion one of another, being lovers of the brotherhood, merciful, modest, humble: not rendering evil for evil, nor railing for railing, but contrariwise, blessing: for unto this you are called; that you may inherit a blessing. For he that will love life, and see good days, let him refrain his tongue from evil, and his lips that they speak no guile. Let him decline from evil, and do good: let him seek?after peace, and, pursue it: because the eyes of the Lord are upon the just, and his ears unto their. prayers: but the countenance of the Lord upon them that do evil, things. And, who is he that can, hurt you, if you: be zealous of good? But if also you suffer any thing for, justice' sake, blessed are ye. And be not afraid of their fear, and be not troubled: but sanctify the Lord Christ, in your hearts.

How can and how should we sanctify the Lord in our hearts?

By practising those virtues which Peter here recommends, and which he so exactly describes; for thereby we become true disciples of Christ, honor Him and edify others, who by our good example are led to admire Christianity, and to become His followers. Moreover, we thus render ourselves more worthy of God's grace and protection, so that if for justice' sake we are persecuted by, wicked men, we need not fear, because God is for us and will reward us with eternal happiness.

ASPIRATION O good Saviour, Jesus Christ, grant that I may make Thy virtues my own; especially Thy humility, patience, mercy, and love; grant that I may practise them diligently, that I may glorify Thee, sanctify myself, and thus become worthy of Thy protection.

GOSPEL (Matt. V. 20-24.) At that time, Jesus said to his disciples: Except your justice abound more than that of the Scribesand Pharisees, you shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. You have heard that it was said to them of old: Thou shalt not kill: and whosoever shall kill, shall be in danger of the judgment. But I say to you, that whosoever is angry with his brother, shall be in danger of the judgment. And whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council. And whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire. If therefore, thou bring thy gift at the altar, and there thou remember that thy brother bath anything against thee, leave there thy offering befog a the altar, and go first to be reconciled to thy brother: and then coming, thou shaft offer thy gift.

In what did the justice of the Pharisees consist?

In external works of piety, in the avoidance of such gross vices as could not be concealed, and would have brought them to shame and disgrace. But in their hearts these Pharisees cherished evil, corrupt inclinations and desires, pride, envy, avarice, and studied malice and vengeance. Jesus, therefore, called them hypocrites, whitened sepulchres, and St. John calls them a brood of vipers. True Justice consists not only in external works of piety, that is, devotional works, but especially in a pure, sincere, self?sacrificing feeling towards God and man; without this all works, however good, are only a shell without a kernel.

How are we to understand that which Christ here says of anger and abusive words?

The meaning of Christ's words are:. You have heard that murder was forbidden to your fathers in the desert, and that the murderer had to be given up to justice: but I say to you, whoever becomes angry with his neighbor, shall be in danger of divine judgment, and he who with abusive words, such as Raca, Villain, gives vent to his anger, using expressions of contempt and insult, as fool, scoundrel, profligate, wretch, is more liable to punishment. These degrees of anger are punished in different ways by God.

Is anger always sinful?

No, anger is sinful only when we wish or actually inflict some evil to the body, property, or honor of our neighbor; when we make use of such insulting and abusive words as injure his character, provoke and irritate him. If we become angry at the vices and crimes of others, when our office or the duties of our station demand that we watch over the conduct of those under our care, to punish and correct them, (as in the case of parents, teachers, and superiors) then anger is no sin. When one through pure love of God, becomes irritated at the sins and vices of his fellowmen, like King David, or if one urged to wrong, repels the tempter with indignation, this is even a holy anger. Thus St. Gregory Says; "It is to be understood that anger created by impatience is a very different thing from anger produced by a zeal for justice. The one is caused by vice, the other by virtue." He, then, who becomes angry for justice' sake, commits no sin, but his conduct is holy and praiseworthy, for even our Lord was angry at those who bought and sold in the temple, (John II. 15.) Paul at the magician Elymas, (Acts XIII. 8.) and Peter at the deceit of Ananias and Saphira. (Acts V. 3.) Anger, then, to be without sin, must proceed from true zeal for God's honor and the salvation of souls, by which we seek to prevent others from sin, and to make them better. Even in this respect, we must be careful to allow our anger no control over our reason, but to use it merely as a means of doing good, for we are often apt to take the sting of anger for holy zeal, when it is really nothing but egotism and ambition.

Why must we first be reconciled with our neighbor before bringing an offering to God, or undertaking any good work?

Because no offering or other good work can be pleasing to God, while we live in enmity, hatred, and strife with our neighbor; for by living thus we act altogether contrary to God's will. This should be remembered by all Christians, who go to confession and holy Communion, without forgiving those who have offended them, and asking pardon of those whom they have injured. These must know that instead of receiving absolution for their sins, they by an invalid confession are guilty of another sin, and eat their own judgment in holy Communion.

How should reconciliation be made with our neighbor?

With promptness, because the apostle says: Let not the sun go down upon your anger. (Eph. IV. 26.) But if the person you have offended is absent, says St. Augustine, and you cannot easily meet him, you are bound to be reconciled to him interiorly, that is, to humble yourself before God, and ask His forgiveness, making the firm resolution to be reconciled to your enemy as soon as possible. If he is accessible, go to him, and ask his forgiveness; if he has offended you, forgive him from your heart. The reconciliation should be sincere, for God sees into the heart; it should also be permanent, for if it is not lasting, it may be questioned if it was ever sincere. On account of this command of Christ to be reconciled to our enemies before bringing sacrifice, it was the custom in ancient times that the faithful gave. the kiss of peace to one another at the sacrifice of Mass, before Communion, as even to this day do the priests and deacons, by which those who are present, are admonished to love one another with holy love, and to be perfectly reconciled with their enemies, before Communion.

ASPIRATION O God, strike me not with the blindness of the Pharisees that, like them, I may seek to please man by my works, and thus be deprived of eternal reward. Banish from my heart all sinful anger, and give me a holy zeal in charity that I may be anxious only for Thy honor and for the salvation of my neighbor. Grant me also that I may offend no one, and willingly forgive those who have offended me, thus practicing true Christian justice, and become agreeable to Thee.

MEANS OF PREVENTING ANGER

The first and most effectual preventive is humility; for as among the proud there are always quarrels and contentions, (Prov. XIII. 10.) so among the humble reign peace, meekness and patience. To be humble, meek, and patient, we must frequently bring before our minds the example of Christ who did not sin, neither was guile found in His mouth, (I Peter II. 22.) yet suffered great contradictions, many persecutions, scoffs and sneers from sinners, without threatening vengeance to any one for all He suffered; He say's to us in truth: Learn of me, because I am meek and humble of heart. (Matt. XI. Z9.) A very good preventive of anger is to think over in the morning what causes will be likely to draw us into anger at any time during the day, and to arm ourselves against it by a firm resolution to bear all with patience and silence; and when afterwards anything unpleasant occurs, let us think, "What will I effect by my anger? Can I thereby make things better? Will I not even make myself ridiculous and injure my health?" (for experience as well as holy Scripture teaches, that anger shortens life.) (Eccles. XXX. 26.) Finally, the most necessary preventive of anger is fervent prayer to God for the grace of meekness and patience, for although it seems difficult and almost impossible to our nature to be patient, by the grace of God it becomes not only possible, but even easy.

INSTRUCTION ON SACRIFICE

Offer thy gift. (Matt. V. 24.)

In its wider and more universal sense sacrifice comprehends all religious actions by which a rational being; presents himself to God, to be united with Him; and in this sense prayer, praising God, a contrite heart, charity to others, every good work, and observance of God's commandments is a sacrifice. Thus the Holy Scriptures say: Offer up the sacrifice of justice and trust in the Lord. (Fs. IV. 6.) Offer to God the sacrifice of praise. (Ps. XLIX. iq..) Sacrifice to God is an afflicted spirit; a contrite and humble heart, O God, thou wilt not despise. (Ps. 1. 19.) It is a wholesome sacrifice to take heed to the commandments, and to depart from, all iniquity. (Ecclus. XXXV. 2.) "Therefore," says St. Augustine, "every good work which is united in sanctity with God, is a true sacrifice, because it refers to the end of all good, to God, by whom we can be truly happy." As often, then, as you humble yourself in prayer before the majesty of God, when you give yourself up to God, and when you make your will subject to His divine will, you bring a sacrifice to God; as often as you punish your body by continency, and your senses by mortification, you bring a sacrifice to God, because you offer them as instruments of justice; (Rom. VI. 13.) as often as you subdue the evil concupiscence of the flesh, the perverted inclinations of your soul, deny yourself any worldly pleasure for the love of God, you bring a sacrifice to God. Such sacrifices you should daily offer to God; without which all others have no value and do not please God, such as these you can make every moment, when you think, speak, and act all for the love, of God.

Strive then, Christian soul, to offer these pleasing sacrifices to God, the supreme Lord, and as you thus glorify Him, so will He one day reward you with unutterable glory.

[Concerning Sacrifice in a stricter sense, especially the Sacrifice of Jesus on the Cross and its renewal in holy Mass, see the latter part of this book.]

#fifth sunday after pentecost

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cassianus · 7 years

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Love and pray for your enemies:

By: St. Silvanus the Athonite

The soul cannot know peace unless she prays for her enemies. The soul that has learned of God’s grace to pray, feels love and compassion for every created thing, and in particular for mankind, for whom the Lord suffered on the Cross, and His soul was heavy for every one of us.

The Lord taught me to love my enemies. Without the grace of God we cannot love our enemies. Only the Holy Spirit teaches love, and then even devils arouse our pity because they have fallen from good, and lost humility in God.

I beseech you, put this to the test. When a man affronts you or brings dishonor on your head, or takes what is yours, or persecutes the Church, pray to the Lord, saying: “O Lord, we are all Thy creatures. Have pity on Thy servants and turn their hearts to repentance,” and you will be aware of grace in your soul. To begin with, constrain your heart to love enemies, and the Lord, seeing your good will, will help you in all things, and experience itself will shoe you the way. But the man who thinks with malice of his enemies has not God’s love within him, and does not know God.

If you will pray for your enemies, peace will come to you; but when you can love your enemies – know that a great measure of the grace of God dwells in you, though I do not say perfect grace as yet, but sufficient for salvation. Whereas if you revile your enemies, it means there is an evil spirit living in you and bringing evil thoughts into your heart, for, in the words of the Lord, out of the heart proceed evil thoughts – or good thoughts.

The good man thinks to himself in this wise: Every one who has strayed from the truth brings destruction on himself and is therefore to be pitied. But of course the man who has not learned the love of the Holy Spirit will not pray for his enemies. The man who has learned love from the Holy Spirit sorrows all his life over those who are not saved, and sheds abundant tears for the people, and the grace of God gives him strength to love his enemies.

Understand me. It is so simple. People who do not know God, or who go against Him, are to be pitied; the heart sorrows for them and the eye weeps. Both paradise and torment are clearly visible to us: We know this through the Holy Spirit. And did not the Lord Himself say, “The kingdom of God is within you”? Thus eternal life has its beginning here in this life; and it is here that we sow the seeds of eternal torment.

Where there is pride there cannot be grace, and if we lose grace we also lose both love of God and assurance in prayer. The soul is then tormented by evil thoughts and does not understand that she must humble herself and love her enemies, for there is no other way to please God.

What shall I render unto Thee, O Lord, for that Thou hast poured such great mercy on my soul? Grant, I beg Thee, that I may see my iniquities, and ever weep before Thee, for Thou art filled with love for humble souls, and dost give them the grace of the Holy Spirit.

O merciful God, forgive me. Thou seest how my soul is drawn to Thee, her Creator. Thou hast wounded my soul with Thy love, and she thirsts for Thee, and wearies without end, and day and night, insatiable, reaches toward Thee, and has no wish to look upon this world, though I do love it, but above all I love Thee, my Creator, and my soul longs after Thee.

O my Creator, why have I, Thy little creature, grieved Thee so often? Yet Thou hast not remembered my sins.

Glory be to the Lord God that He gave us His Only-begotten Son for the sake of our salvation. Glory be to the Only-begotten Son that He deigned to be born of the Most Holy Virgin, and suffered for our salvation, and gave us His Most Pure Body and Blood to eternal life, and sent His Holy Spirit on the earth.

O Lord, grant me tears to shed for myself, and for the whole universe, that the nations may know Thee and live eternally with Thee, O Lord, vouchsafe us the gift of Thy humble Holy Spirit, that we may apprehend Thy glory.

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dailyofficereadings · 5 years

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Daily Office Readings June 21, 2019

Psalm 88

Prayer for Help in Despondency

A Song. A Psalm of the Korahites. To the leader: according to Mahalath Leannoth. A Maskil of Heman the Ezrahite.

1 O Lord, God of my salvation, when, at night, I cry out in your presence, 2 let my prayer come before you; incline your ear to my cry.

3 For my soul is full of troubles, and my life draws near to Sheol. 4 I am counted among those who go down to the Pit; I am like those who have no help, 5 like those forsaken among the dead, like the slain that lie in the grave, like those whom you remember no more, for they are cut off from your hand. 6 You have put me in the depths of the Pit, in the regions dark and deep. 7 Your wrath lies heavy upon me, and you overwhelm me with all your waves.Selah

8 You have caused my companions to shun me; you have made me a thing of horror to them. I am shut in so that I cannot escape; 9 my eye grows dim through sorrow. Every day I call on you, O Lord; I spread out my hands to you. 10 Do you work wonders for the dead? Do the shades rise up to praise you?Selah 11 Is your steadfast love declared in the grave, or your faithfulness in Abaddon? 12 Are your wonders known in the darkness, or your saving help in the land of forgetfulness?

13 But I, O Lord, cry out to you; in the morning my prayer comes before you. 14 O Lord, why do you cast me off? Why do you hide your face from me? 15 Wretched and close to death from my youth up, I suffer your terrors; I am desperate.[a] 16 Your wrath has swept over me; your dread assaults destroy me. 17 They surround me like a flood all day long; from all sides they close in on me. 18 You have caused friend and neighbor to shun me; my companions are in darkness.

Footnotes:

Psalm 88:15 Meaning of Heb uncertain

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

New Revised Standard Version Bible: Catholic Edition, copyright © 1989, 1993 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Psalm 91-92

Psalm 91

Assurance of God’s Protection

1 You who live in the shelter of the Most High, who abide in the shadow of the Almighty,[a] 2 will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress; my God, in whom I trust.” 3 For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler and from the deadly pestilence; 4 he will cover you with his pinions, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness is a shield and buckler. 5 You will not fear the terror of the night, or the arrow that flies by day, 6 or the pestilence that stalks in darkness, or the destruction that wastes at noonday.

7 A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you. 8 You will only look with your eyes and see the punishment of the wicked.

9 Because you have made the Lord your refuge,[b] the Most High your dwelling place, 10 no evil shall befall you, no scourge come near your tent.

11 For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. 12 On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone. 13 You will tread on the lion and the adder, the young lion and the serpent you will trample under foot.

14 Those who love me, I will deliver; I will protect those who know my name. 15 When they call to me, I will answer them; I will be with them in trouble, I will rescue them and honor them. 16 With long life I will satisfy them, and show them my salvation.

Psalm 92

Thanksgiving for Vindication

A Psalm. A Song for the Sabbath Day.

1 It is good to give thanks to the Lord, to sing praises to your name, O Most High; 2 to declare your steadfast love in the morning, and your faithfulness by night, 3 to the music of the lute and the harp, to the melody of the lyre. 4 For you, O Lord, have made me glad by your work; at the works of your hands I sing for joy.

5 How great are your works, O Lord! Your thoughts are very deep! 6 The dullard cannot know, the stupid cannot understand this: 7 though the wicked sprout like grass and all evildoers flourish, they are doomed to destruction forever, 8 but you, O Lord, are on high forever. 9 For your enemies, O Lord, for your enemies shall perish; all evildoers shall be scattered.

10 But you have exalted my horn like that of the wild ox; you have poured over me[c] fresh oil. 11 My eyes have seen the downfall of my enemies; my ears have heard the doom of my evil assailants.

12 The righteous flourish like the palm tree, and grow like a cedar in Lebanon. 13 They are planted in the house of the Lord; they flourish in the courts of our God. 14 In old age they still produce fruit; they are always green and full of sap, 15 showing that the Lord is upright; he is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in him.

Footnotes:

Psalm 91:1 Traditional rendering of Heb Shaddai

Psalm 91:9 Cn: Heb Because you, Lord, are my refuge; you have made

Psalm 92:10 Syr: Meaning of Heb uncertain

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

1 Samuel 3

Samuel’s Calling and Prophetic Activity

3 Now the boy Samuel was ministering to the Lord under Eli. The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.

2 At that time Eli, whose eyesight had begun to grow dim so that he could not see, was lying down in his room; 3 the lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was. 4 Then the Lord called, “Samuel! Samuel!”[a] and he said, “Here I am!” 5 and ran to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call; lie down again.” So he went and lay down. 6 The Lord called again, “Samuel!” Samuel got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call, my son; lie down again.” 7 Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord, and the word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him. 8 The Lord called Samuel again, a third time. And he got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the boy. 9 Therefore Eli said to Samuel, “Go, lie down; and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.’” So Samuel went and lay down in his place.

10 Now the Lord came and stood there, calling as before, “Samuel! Samuel!” And Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant is listening.” 11 Then the Lord said to Samuel, “See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears of it tingle. 12 On that day I will fulfill against Eli all that I have spoken concerning his house, from beginning to end. 13 For I have told him that I am about to punish his house forever, for the iniquity that he knew, because his sons were blaspheming God,[b] and he did not restrain them. 14 Therefore I swear to the house of Eli that the iniquity of Eli’s house shall not be expiated by sacrifice or offering forever.”

15 Samuel lay there until morning; then he opened the doors of the house of the Lord. Samuel was afraid to tell the vision to Eli. 16 But Eli called Samuel and said, “Samuel, my son.” He said, “Here I am.” 17 Eli said, “What was it that he told you? Do not hide it from me. May God do so to you and more also, if you hide anything from me of all that he told you.” 18 So Samuel told him everything and hid nothing from him. Then he said, “It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him.”

19 As Samuel grew up, the Lord was with him and let none of his words fall to the ground. 20 And all Israel from Dan to Beer-sheba knew that Samuel was a trustworthy prophet of the Lord. 21 The Lord continued to appear at Shiloh, for the Lord revealed himself to Samuel at Shiloh by the word of the Lord.

Footnotes:

1 Samuel 3:4 Q Ms Gk See 3.10: MT the Lord called Samuel

1 Samuel 3:13 Another reading is for themselves

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

Acts 2:37-47

The First Converts

37 Now when they heard this, they were cut to the heart and said to Peter and to the other apostles, “Brothers,[a] what should we do?” 38 Peter said to them, “Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ so that your sins may be forgiven; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. 39 For the promise is for you, for your children, and for all who are far away, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to him.” 40 And he testified with many other arguments and exhorted them, saying, “Save yourselves from this corrupt generation.” 41 So those who welcomed his message were baptized, and that day about three thousand persons were added. 42 They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.

Life among the Believers

43 Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. 44 All who believed were together and had all things in common; 45 they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds[b] to all, as any had need. 46 Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home[c] and ate their food with glad and generous[d] hearts, 47 praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.

Footnotes:

Acts 2:37 Gk Men, brothers

Acts 2:45 Gk them

Acts 2:46 Or from house to house

Acts 2:46 Or sincere

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

Luke 21:5-19

The Destruction of the Temple Foretold

5 When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, he said, 6 “As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.”

Signs and Persecutions

7 They asked him, “Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?” 8 And he said, “Beware that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’[a] and, ‘The time is near!’[b] Do not go after them.

9 “When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.” 10 Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; 11 there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven.

12 “But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. 13 This will give you an opportunity to testify. 14 So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; 15 for I will give you words[c] and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. 16 You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death. 17 You will be hated by all because of my name. 18 But not a hair of your head will perish. 19 By your endurance you will gain your souls.

Footnotes:

Luke 21:8 Gk I am

Luke 21:8 Or at hand

Luke 21:15 Gk a mouth

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

#June 21 #2019

0 notes

dailyofficereadings · 6 years

Text

Daily Office Readings September 17, 2018

Psalm 56-58

Psalm 56

Trust in God under Persecution

To the leader: according to The Dove on Far-off Terebinths. Of David. A Miktam, when the Philistines seized him in Gath.

1 Be gracious to me, O God, for people trample on me; all day long foes oppress me; 2 my enemies trample on me all day long, for many fight against me. O Most High, 3 when I am afraid, I put my trust in you. 4 In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I am not afraid; what can flesh do to me?

5 All day long they seek to injure my cause; all their thoughts are against me for evil. 6 They stir up strife, they lurk, they watch my steps. As they hoped to have my life, 7 so repay[a] them for their crime; in wrath cast down the peoples, O God!

8 You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your record? 9 Then my enemies will retreat in the day when I call. This I know, that[b] God is for me. 10 In God, whose word I praise, in the Lord, whose word I praise, 11 in God I trust; I am not afraid. What can a mere mortal do to me?

12 My vows to you I must perform, O God; I will render thank offerings to you. 13 For you have delivered my soul from death, and my feet from falling, so that I may walk before God in the light of life.

Psalm 57

Praise and Assurance under Persecution

To the leader: Do Not Destroy. Of David. A Miktam, when he fled from Saul, in the cave.

1 Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me, for in you my soul takes refuge; in the shadow of your wings I will take refuge, until the destroying storms pass by. 2 I cry to God Most High, to God who fulfills his purpose for me. 3 He will send from heaven and save me, he will put to shame those who trample on me.Selah God will send forth his steadfast love and his faithfulness.

4 I lie down among lions that greedily devour[c] human prey; their teeth are spears and arrows, their tongues sharp swords.

5 Be exalted, O God, above the heavens. Let your glory be over all the earth.

6 They set a net for my steps; my soul was bowed down. They dug a pit in my path, but they have fallen into it themselves.Selah 7 My heart is steadfast, O God, my heart is steadfast. I will sing and make melody. 8 Awake, my soul! Awake, O harp and lyre! I will awake the dawn. 9 I will give thanks to you, O Lord, among the peoples; I will sing praises to you among the nations. 10 For your steadfast love is as high as the heavens; your faithfulness extends to the clouds.

11 Be exalted, O God, above the heavens. Let your glory be over all the earth.

Psalm 58

Prayer for Vengeance

To the leader: Do Not Destroy. Of David. A Miktam.

1 Do you indeed decree what is right, you gods?[d] Do you judge people fairly? 2 No, in your hearts you devise wrongs; your hands deal out violence on earth.

3 The wicked go astray from the womb; they err from their birth, speaking lies. 4 They have venom like the venom of a serpent, like the deaf adder that stops its ear, 5 so that it does not hear the voice of charmers or of the cunning enchanter.

6 O God, break the teeth in their mouths; tear out the fangs of the young lions, O Lord! 7 Let them vanish like water that runs away; like grass let them be trodden down[e] and wither. 8 Let them be like the snail that dissolves into slime; like the untimely birth that never sees the sun. 9 Sooner than your pots can feel the heat of thorns, whether green or ablaze, may he sweep them away!

10 The righteous will rejoice when they see vengeance done; they will bathe their feet in the blood of the wicked. 11 People will say, “Surely there is a reward for the righteous; surely there is a God who judges on earth.”

Footnotes:

Psalm 56:7 Cn: Heb rescue

Psalm 56:9 Or because

Psalm 57:4 Cn: Heb are aflame for

Psalm 58:1 Or mighty lords

Psalm 58:7 Cn: Meaning of Heb uncertain

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

Psalm 64-65

Psalm 64

Prayer for Protection from Enemies

To the leader. A Psalm of David.

1 Hear my voice, O God, in my complaint; preserve my life from the dread enemy. 2 Hide me from the secret plots of the wicked, from the scheming of evildoers, 3 who whet their tongues like swords, who aim bitter words like arrows, 4 shooting from ambush at the blameless; they shoot suddenly and without fear. 5 They hold fast to their evil purpose; they talk of laying snares secretly, thinking, “Who can see us?[a] 6 Who can search out our crimes?[b] We have thought out a cunningly conceived plot.” For the human heart and mind are deep.

7 But God will shoot his arrow at them; they will be wounded suddenly. 8 Because of their tongue he will bring them to ruin;[c] all who see them will shake with horror. 9 Then everyone will fear; they will tell what God has brought about, and ponder what he has done.

10 Let the righteous rejoice in the Lord and take refuge in him. Let all the upright in heart glory.

Psalm 65

Thanksgiving for Earth’s Bounty

To the leader. A Psalm of David. A Song.

1 Praise is due to you, O God, in Zion; and to you shall vows be performed, 2 O you who answer prayer! To you all flesh shall come. 3 When deeds of iniquity overwhelm us, you forgive our transgressions. 4 Happy are those whom you choose and bring near to live in your courts. We shall be satisfied with the goodness of your house, your holy temple.

5 By awesome deeds you answer us with deliverance, O God of our salvation; you are the hope of all the ends of the earth and of the farthest seas. 6 By your[d] strength you established the mountains; you are girded with might. 7 You silence the roaring of the seas, the roaring of their waves, the tumult of the peoples. 8 Those who live at earth’s farthest bounds are awed by your signs; you make the gateways of the morning and the evening shout for joy.

9 You visit the earth and water it, you greatly enrich it; the river of God is full of water; you provide the people with grain, for so you have prepared it. 10 You water its furrows abundantly, settling its ridges, softening it with showers, and blessing its growth. 11 You crown the year with your bounty; your wagon tracks overflow with richness. 12 The pastures of the wilderness overflow, the hills gird themselves with joy, 13 the meadows clothe themselves with flocks, the valleys deck themselves with grain, they shout and sing together for joy.

Footnotes:

Psalm 64:5 Syr: Heb them

Psalm 64:6 Cn: Heb They search out crimes

Psalm 64:8 Cn: Heb They will bring him to ruin, their tongue being against them

Psalm 65:6 Gk Jerome: Heb his

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

Job 40

40 And the Lord said to Job:

2 “Shall a faultfinder contend with the Almighty?[a] Anyone who argues with God must respond.”

Job’s Response to God

3 Then Job answered the Lord:

4 “See, I am of small account; what shall I answer you? I lay my hand on my mouth. 5 I have spoken once, and I will not answer; twice, but will proceed no further.”

God’s Challenge to Job

6 Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind:

7 “Gird up your loins like a man; I will question you, and you declare to me. 8 Will you even put me in the wrong? Will you condemn me that you may be justified? 9 Have you an arm like God, and can you thunder with a voice like his?

10 “Deck yourself with majesty and dignity; clothe yourself with glory and splendor. 11 Pour out the overflowings of your anger, and look on all who are proud, and abase them. 12 Look on all who are proud, and bring them low; tread down the wicked where they stand. 13 Hide them all in the dust together; bind their faces in the world below.[b] 14 Then I will also acknowledge to you that your own right hand can give you victory.

15 “Look at Behemoth, which I made just as I made you; it eats grass like an ox. 16 Its strength is in its loins, and its power in the muscles of its belly. 17 It makes its tail stiff like a cedar; the sinews of its thighs are knit together. 18 Its bones are tubes of bronze, its limbs like bars of iron.

19 “It is the first of the great acts of God— only its Maker can approach it with the sword. 20 For the mountains yield food for it where all the wild animals play. 21 Under the lotus plants it lies, in the covert of the reeds and in the marsh. 22 The lotus trees cover it for shade; the willows of the wadi surround it. 23 Even if the river is turbulent, it is not frightened; it is confident though Jordan rushes against its mouth. 24 Can one take it with hooks[c] or pierce its nose with a snare?

Footnotes:

Job 40:2 Traditional rendering of Heb Shaddai

Job 40:13 Heb the hidden place

Job 40:24 Cn: Heb in his eyes

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

Acts 15:36-16:5

Paul and Barnabas Separate

36 After some days Paul said to Barnabas, “Come, let us return and visit the believers[a] in every city where we proclaimed the word of the Lord and see how they are doing.” 37 Barnabas wanted to take with them John called Mark. 38 But Paul decided not to take with them one who had deserted them in Pamphylia and had not accompanied them in the work. 39 The disagreement became so sharp that they parted company; Barnabas took Mark with him and sailed away to Cyprus. 40 But Paul chose Silas and set out, the believers[b] commending him to the grace of the Lord. 41 He went through Syria and Cilicia, strengthening the churches.

Timothy Joins Paul and Silas

16 Paul[c] went on also to Derbe and to Lystra, where there was a disciple named Timothy, the son of a Jewish woman who was a believer; but his father was a Greek. 2 He was well spoken of by the believers[d] in Lystra and Iconium. 3 Paul wanted Timothy to accompany him; and he took him and had him circumcised because of the Jews who were in those places, for they all knew that his father was a Greek. 4 As they went from town to town, they delivered to them for observance the decisions that had been reached by the apostles and elders who were in Jerusalem. 5 So the churches were strengthened in the faith and increased in numbers daily.

Footnotes:

Acts 15:36 Gk brothers

Acts 15:40 Gk brothers

Acts 16:1 Gk He

Acts 16:2 Gk brothers

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

John 11:55-12:8

55 Now the Passover of the Jews was near, and many went up from the country to Jerusalem before the Passover to purify themselves. 56 They were looking for Jesus and were asking one another as they stood in the temple, “What do you think? Surely he will not come to the festival, will he?” 57 Now the chief priests and the Pharisees had given orders that anyone who knew where Jesus[a] was should let them know, so that they might arrest him.

Mary Anoints Jesus

12 Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. 2 There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. 3 Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them[b] with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. 4 But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, 5 “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii[c] and the money given to the poor?” 6 (He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) 7 Jesus said, “Leave her alone. She bought it[d] so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. 8 You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”

Footnotes:

John 11:57 Gk he

John 12:3 Gk his feet

John 12:5 Three hundred denarii would be nearly a year’s wages for a laborer

John 12:7 Gk lacks She bought it

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

#September 17 #2018

0 notes