Shepherding Lion

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I’ll be the lion,
If you’ll be the sheep.
There’s no left implyin’
We’re already too deep.

I’ll take what I want.
I’ll leave what I don’t.
I won’t stand up and flaunt,
What’s not mine; no I won’t.

I’ll give what you need.
I’ll make up for the weak.
There’s no room left to plead,
When I still have to peak.

Look passed the mane.
Remove the wool off your eyes.
I don’t have much to gain,
But I like the new highs.

Journal – I Want to Believe

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Topic: Why do you want to believe?

Do I want to, or do I need to? To not believe would speak volumes of my character and personality. It does for everyone. I want to believe because to not believe seems like a default. And I was born into a customized world. I’m not making the argument about fine-tuning, but I’m also not saying it hasn’t affected my judgment.

When I hear that someone else believes in what I believe in, I don’t feel empowered or instantly connected to them, as one would imagine. Don’t group us into a prototype. I want to know why they believe, what they believe, and how they have come to believe. I want to know if we are a ‘we’ or if we are of separate minds.

I believe in what I believe because I grew up in a world surrounded by others who believed. I’m not saying that this is the only reason why I believe, but it is the starting point. I won’t deny that.

I came to believe more wholesomely in my faith when I had started to think of complex ideals and issues far beyond my capability to understand. Questions were posed, and questions were given. Answers? I got very few of, but I felt a part of me that always seemed satisfied.

I could not see or hear what others demanded to perceive, but I felt like I had the answer inside of me. Was it distilled upon me? Was it molded into me by my environment? I think that you can try to do that to any singular person, but I don’t believe it will work.

I believe because I want to believe, because I need to believe, and because it is all I know how to do. I believe because there is no world where I am separate from an eternal source. That is something that I can never believe. I’ve heard the arguments, debated on both sides, and have come to understand where my logic falls. And that logic falls on why I believe it’s okay to believe in what I believe. I can feel it, and that is enough for me.

Journal – “I Am Not Fireproof”

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Topic: Be real for a second, and shake things up. Put a spin on the day, and freeze the frame. Magnify the view, and share it with the world.

Do you ever hear something, and you’re left with that resonating impact? I feel it vibrating under my skin, and it’s lingering in my mind.

“Fallin’ again, I need a pick-me-up. I’ve been callin’ you ‘friend,’ I might need to give it up. I’m sick and I’m tired too. I can admit, I am not fireproof. I feel it burning me. I feel it burning you.”

– The NBHD

It’s weird how we all interpret lyrics to fit into our own form of consciousness. I’ll say this entirely relates to me, and you can say the same for yourself. But we will hold onto two different meanings. My environment and my experiences colored my lens. And now I see things through maroon eyes. Don’t tell me that I’m wrong and that I have it all mixed up if your lenses are hunter green or coral pink. We walk in different shoes, and we wear different emotions and labels. Let me see the world the way that I think it relates to me. Don’t subject me to your woven consciousness.

Poetic spin: I am not fireproof. I have thick skin, but I can still get burned. Maybe we don’t want to notice the flames, but babe, we’re walking through some heightening flames.

Metaphysical spin: Call it a friend. Call it by it’s nature. Admit that we’re sick and dying; that there are too many injuries to tend. We got burns over our burns. Nightmares causing our tosses and turns.