The voice of June


He was a young kid, lean, about 5’6 in height, subtly muscular in an unseen way, there was a slight birth-mark near his forehead that seemed to be the mark of a young man who had escaped the sheer tyranny of a former life with just an inch of life..his former life was probably dull and from his voice I could see that he was constantly in an overcrowded environment with sullen and sharp characters who stifled his free spirited heart with insults that were careful evasions of their own unresolved conflicts and pains, … his front teeth were slightly broken and they went along with the whole charm of the young man who had known an uncertain life before the rescuing force of hope had saved him, and had shattered away the deep darkness of the soul and revealed the power of God’s presence in an evil, hurting, clueless world … there was something seriously endearing about him, something so beautiful yet melancholic like a blues Jazz tune… something so unconscious yet pure and untouched by the pathos of a brute civilization that forcefully made a pure smile a haunted and forced one, he was the meek brother of innocence, the timid child who knew a broken home yet bravely endured the storm and watched from closed doors the abuse of his mother at the hands of an alcoholic father , there were dreams trapped in that confidence lacking soul, dreams of performing raw on stage , breaking free from the accursed curse of his life, the poverty, the hopelessness of the circumstances that surrounded him… of making those who laughed at his frame, or teased him wickedly in regard to his overall appearance , naive dreams of leading many to Christ, dreams, dreams and dreams … he was nearing his twenties, yet he had the appearance of a child lost in a big loud city, and had to throw away those emotions that wreak havoc and fear and had learned to accept the terrible agony of all life and separate himself from the small world that once was his and his alone… there was something deeply mournful about those silent eyes that he held within him, they appeared to hold some sort of regret within them, they appeared to glow with a soft, melancholic music, they appeared to echo many sad songs, songs that stuck to the walls, stuck to the valves in the heart and moved the soul into the streams of sorrow… I knew the kid well… for some strange, undefinable reason I felt a connection to his soul… and I decided then and there that I was going to be the artist who would bring out all the stray lines and the forgotten details of this loud person who concealed a silent soul.

The office meanwhile was consumed to its fading glories.. it was the final few hours of the evening, like the brilliant sky colors that dimmed with the slow descent of dusk, so was the emotion that slowly crept in when the evening came by with the strolling rings of lazy cyclists and the low sounds of vegetable carts passing by, the kid from the home with the slanting roof skipped rope alone under the bizarre and spilt yellow of the luminous street lights … the lights inside were peculiar and as appealing as raw starch, the young kid was pouring out his soul in his trademark style of giving less importance to his inmost feelings. I sat there, intent on making his words last, of ensuring that despite the flow of days and hours, his heart would get the acceptance that it deserved, of making sure that he felt accepted, gripped with the need to push beyond the press of my own burdens, of my own existential anguish, of feeling the screams and shouts of my limitations with foul voices, hearing the spoilt tones of my comfort zones, and in a land beyond all of that, I sat there listening to the young boy’s heart…  I would’ve wished for the tender strums of a guitar, to perhaps create a song as delightful or as tragic as ‘Delilah’, my thoughts were pouring out in the voluminous force that they usually did when I was feeling that plunge into the depths of my soul…I nudged myself to stay on track, the kid had no one else to share his feelings, no one who cared or knew how to accept him in the way a follower of Christ could.. I was floating towards the end of the human spectrum, slowly losing my footing on gravity, slipping away into sweet musings that brought in the refreshing kiss of hope and love…The skies were a smooth pale black, beset by twinkling stars whose presence seemed more faint and unreal than immediate and satisfactory.

Meanwhile, the young kid, his young heart was afflicted with a conflict of love, someone whom he had mourned would never fancy someone like him had expressed an interest in him after a space of years, and he was terribly bothered, bothered by the sum of all the sermons and horror stories of love gone wrong that he had been conditioned to since time began, …I wondered if I was the right person to dish out cold, stern, unattached counsel about affairs of the heart… I was by no stretch perfect myself, I was the mistake maker, the sinner, the saint with the past, the hurting hero, the masked outsider, the heroic infant who saw the world through rosy lens, I was the sum of all the broken pieces knit together by a Savior slash Revolutionary’s love… but these people seemed to drift into my life for some strange reason… guided as though by a heavenly melody… often holding within their hearts unresolved pain and sorrow for being so ill treated by a cruel, wicked and hard world, and I welcomed them… I was somewhat of a stray and a reject myself , the only thing that I had in abundance to give anyone who wanted me was my attention… The kid seemed to hang in a cloud far far away, I did not know how to bring him back.. I waited for him to speak…  someone he had once liked seemed to be interested in him at the moment, but right now he felt that he was too young for love, he wished to serve His creator, he had ambitions in his heart, dreams, he wished to become a man, he wished to heroically clear the terrible demons of debt that hung like starving ravenous wolves over his poor paranoid mother’s heart, who in his own admissions despite her sombre baptism slipped often into fits where curse words fell like shifting darkness in a fearful soul’s imagination … but he felt that power of hurt afflict him even when he was interested in making the right decisions… The more he wanted to send her away, the more it seemed like he was separating his own heart from the choice, the more it felt like it was she who was leaving him be and not the other way around, would he ever find love again…? Would someone as beautiful as her ever come into his life a second time…? Should he put aside his doubts and if’s and just plunge into and not worry so much about everyone else…? Oh the running, the silent weeping, the long hours of brooding, the cold feet, the hot panic…! The painful process that sends the mind into a maze filled with bending corners that induces a deep daze, for a brief moment I escaped away from the scene and started dreaming about a Revolution… I imagined myself as being the inimitable Grand master Flash, walking the flat cement roads, passing by the street sweepers, the vegetable vendors, hearing the siren of the train in the grand flat rails, weaving through dreams of being great, the houses contained tv watchers, unemployed pretty boys wiling away unaffected by life’s great call, ruffian school boys eager to showcase and perform their acts of aggression and indecency in the most unethical and irritating ways, there were mild eyes staring out of closed windows trying to find something important to stare at lest they turned back and stared at the hopeless tyranny of their life’s contents, the brazen skinned women each seemed suspicious at everything and anything apart from the fabric of everyday routines that involved milk men, delivery men and vegetable vendors, they treated everyone else to a terrible unfounded suspicion, wishing away the intruders that trespassed into their territory and domain with crude and hard stares, the kid was still talking… there was pain that made its way through the slowness of narration, through the despair brought on by a soul wandering in a barren plain searching for love, seeking meaning, establishing identity, creating a destiny… Was there someone who watched over us all..? Was there someone out there who listened to our deepest hurt..? Our most desperate cries…? Our hopeless agonies against the terrible afflictions of chance, of fate and reality…? Was there hope for any of us at all…?




Recently someone who read what I wrote commented about how it was unnecessary that I was talking about the form of the day, about the birds, about the sounds that we seldom notice and the way in which the wind caressed the trees, what he said was said in a fashion of knowledge and authority, he did not note nor comment about how he had seldom observed such things and was an inability of his own, he cleverly talked about how he was someone who got right into a matter and did not wander around in things that did not mean that much, like I was one who didn’t know how to do a similar thing, but I was a writer and I belonged and thrived in the natural world, and it is my nature to extract and portray those elements that deeply thrill and enamor me… Naturally that irate comment angered me, but being the implosive person that I was, I took it in and did not react to that person immediately , speaking with clarity I let them know that there are many styles of writing and that literary writing is indeed like painting a picture where the details emerge gradually on closer observation, that is was important to build up a scene, unlike a movie with its limitless prowess of visual excess, words have to be used to make people live and speak and stir reflections … Later on in my personal space and time I carefully pondered it, finding it difficult to deal with the powerful and overwhelming push of anger.. if there is one thing that deeply irritates me inwardly it is the carelessness of opinions, or the casual way in which someone can put something down that they really don’t understand or have not taken the time to… truth is opinions hurt, now I am not saying that I am the most perfect writer out there, but writing is my passion and I know relatively better than the common lay man about the intricacies involved in writing, and the effort that it takes depending upon the personality… having someone take something that you’ve worked real hard for (away from the eyes of men) and tear it up and throw it to the side casually in the most ordinary sense can be an mind bugging oppression to deal with…I am not someone who shies away from truth, certain times truth can be a devastating shock, a blast that dissociates all the inward constructs of the ego and leaves it with little preparatory mechanisms to fight back…sometimes it can break everything within you…. But that is the independent nature of truth, you see truth is powerful because of it is Absolute and independent power, because of its blunt impersonal yet devastating personal directness and the manner in which it destroys all personal illusions and immediately reveals the untruths and lies that we cultivate for the sake of appearance and power….Truth is one of my favorite words, I constantly stare at the mirror and see if there is truth in me, I wonder if there is fairness and honesty within me, for someone who is careful about being honest to a fault, I know that I fall short of its implications and demands often, but I have always been a firm believer that if there is truth in our hearts when another side of truth hits us, we would be grandly benefited than destroyed… I would love to explore the roots of anger for a short while, I am someone who at times struggles with anger, mostly because I don’t show it outwardly, but I do have my own inner lab where I carefully go over the details in a meditative fashion to see if it was me who was the cause for things or if it was something that just happened or if it was the fault of the person that I was dealing with. Anger is an intense, unhealthy and divisive emotion, often times on the basketball court I see myself barking at my teammates if they make mistakes, I rarely criticize someone, but in serious games, frustration is natural and in a game of such epic physical demands and subtle themes, anger just oozes out in abundance and at times takes me away from the concentration I enjoy in high pressure games, sometimes I feel self righteous because I perform well or take much of the action in such games… but sometimes I can see that my seriousness is way too high for something that means so little overall( in my heart every win and loss matters because I am competing against my own fears, doubts and demons). Being angry can cause serious rifts with people whom you find yourselves drawn to, being angry with someone can often blind you to how difficult it is to deal with anger personally, sometimes you have to put yourself in the other person’s shoes and see how hard it must be for them as well… certain times speaking out is essential, instead of being confrontational, being angry in the right degree is important in matters of communication and personal relationships.. but motives are important as well, we often get angry with each other because we are trying to be better than them in some way or fashion, or we secretly find a fault with our friends or colleagues and outwardly externalize it as anger, each man has always secretly struggled with themes of power and self righteousness in his own heart… and at times we are angry with people for the right reasons, but what does the Bible say about anger…?
If we look at Ephesians 4:26-31, it is written :
“In your anger do not sin”: Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold. He who has been stealing must steal no longer, but must work, doing something useful with his own hands, that he may have something to share with those in need. Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice.
Paul the ultimate theologian and scholar advises us to get rid of all bitterness, for too often than not bitterness breeds anger and malice, to put away with rage and anger, brawling and slander. If you really look at the causes of anger and the forms that it takes to express itself, you can clearly see that whatever the Apostle listed are the exact manners in which it uses to represent itself… we are to be cautious therefore and understand our limitations, for too often we get angry because we presume that we are perfect and right in all arguments and decisions.
further in James it is written, James 1:19-20
My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, for man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires.
Therefore God asks us to be patient in our trials, in our difficult circumstances, very often we get irritated by people who rarely understand us and find ourselves getting offended by every action of theirs, and thus open a portal for anger to come through, anger in us is just as poisonous as the venom in the other person’s heart, there should be an economy of words, words often trap us because the more we feel threatened the more we speak to make ourselves feel stronger or to justify our side when the attention of the other person fails to match our expectations… Around us things are being shaped by internal factors and external factors, by spiritual forces and by a refusal to wake up and change what is deeply a cause of much unrest and discontent in our own hearts… I have learnt that anger despite its ability to release what I hold so very often in my heart, very rarely brings the release that I hope for, those few moments when I bask in a false feeling of self importance and power seldom lasts long, in stories we tend to exaggerate our roles and build angles that were never there in the first place, despite our potential for truth we still harbor many heroic illusions about our hearts, it would do good to depart from such fantasies and accept reality for what it really is, for God’s words has immense pronouncements and directions for the complexities of everyday life, we can trust God’s word because he shaped our hearts, He shaped the values in which we would find the preciousness and beauty of life and He knows what can bring evil into your life… We must also be open to the fact that we are wrong often, that we make mistakes and assume the most difficult to imagine things often, true in some cases people think the worst of us and make us feel like we are unworthy, uneducated, ugly and weak… but very rarely are they our true reflections but reflections of their own ugly hearts, we are shaped by our actions and not by our qualifications, we become who we are based on what we do with our heart, our mind and our words, not by work alone and status.
Getting back to my self appointed book critic, Criticism is natural, judgment is natural, but the ability to be encouraging meanwhile is not… In my experience, very few people have actually encouraged me when all that I was really seeking was acceptance or a few kind words, criticism and being judgmental are common human instincts inherent in all of our psyches, but very rarely do you see such inputs breeding the type of results that you wish to see… In today’s world, there is a terrible sickness of people who seldom take the time to understand and accept you, most of them are either intent on impatiently going over something personal about you and forming the most ignorant and narrow minded perception based on their own subjective feelings, or they are plagued by their own insecurities and see your talents and abilities as something to downplay or put down, just to make themselves feel more important and normal… To be free in today’s world means to find peace consistently despite the terrible difficulties of evading overwhelming emotions, controlling mood swings, dealing with difficult people and complex personalities with their subtle frameworks and agendas, I get easily upset and angry often… perhaps one of the reasons is because there is so little truth in the world and such a paralyzing curse of indifference, and another reason being that I don’t know a whole lot about pleasing people.. People are so defensive and wound up that the only thing they know how to do with ease, is to hurt and wound what is pure and innocent , the only saving grace to these difficulties is my own laid-back nature and the precious mercies and Grace of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ who constantly whispers in my troubles and is there for me when I seek Him. But my laid back nature seldom releases me from the depth of oppression that I constantly run into, only timely prayers, desperate pleas and heartfelt cries from the soul that reach up to the throne of heaven do… Having a mental attitude of not getting caught up in the mess of everyday life is useful and quite important, but the true power that I really possess comes from the powerful personal relationship that I have with my Lord. I know deep down in my heart that I have crossed many barriers and obstacles purely by His redemptive work and by His divine interference’s… I am a man who loves truth, not the truth that applies to me and my feelings alone, but truth in general.. I often perform painful self examinations on a regular basis to see if I am truthful in my dealings with people knowing that I serve a Master who desires that from me. I am far from being the Righteous Saint that I wish I was, in all honesty more often than not I find myself succumbing to sin, but the more I depart away from it and learn to partake in the beauty of righteousness that is a reflection of God’s Holy and Perfect nature, I find myself woven whole, all the errant threads that run astray and bring deep conflicts because of my own inabilities are woven together by the redeeming work of God’s power… But I know that sinful desire is a product fault… Man was born into sin, all that he knows is to rebel directly against the things of God, his inner mechanism are more oriented to the world than to Godly things that save and change, but a steady faith that is open to the issues of the world and the deceitfulness of the self, and seeks to strengthen the spirit within with the things of God can ultimately save a man from the oppression of sin. We are all in different stages in our spiritual life, and yes time is limited and not a gift that can be trusted, for Father time as a famous NBA analyst quoted, is undefeated so we don’t have much time to be lukewarm or slow , but God knows our faults, He knows how difficult the journey is but He demands that we aspire to be constantly focused on our paths, for we are all accountable to Him… in parting, I would like to say a few things from my heart… instead of heaping burdens with our spiritual strengths it would do good to instead use them for lifting people up, building what they fear is irreparable and encouraging them into realizing their potentials… For that is their main purpose and use.
From your Christian Friend,

The Homeless Man


There lies a homeless man near the court I play in, 

He lies near the foul smelling dumpster, his shirt is torn and his pants stink,
Too often than not I hurry past him with my own problems and thoughts,
I hurry past him like I have the most important life on this world,
Every time I do realize that he too has a heart and life like mine..,
Everytime I realize that he and I are not that different,
I find my heart troubled, I don’t know what to do to help him..,
Should I give him a few coins with that dismissive look in my eyes or a hundred rupee note..?
Should I regularly buy him food…? My friends would discourage me by saying that he probably is an alcoholic and only begs for money to buy more of the same spirits that brought him to the curb,
I sometimes listen to my buddies call him crazy and mad,
that hurts my tender heart, isn’t he a man just like any one of us…?
Are we that blind to not see that our place and position in this life is but a blessing from above…?
That we have achieved nothing in this life that will stand the test of time…?
Would a momentary act of kindness truly open the depths to which he has sunk…? Is there any way in which I can save that lost soul..?
I remember my scars , I know how much pain hurt me when it infected my heart…?
Should I not rush to help another soul in distress…? But why do I feel this helplessness in my heart…?
Does my homeless brother have a house…? Has he ever fallen in love..?
What kind of dreams did he have before he fell to the tyranny of human indifference…? Does he have someone waiting for him in some railway station..? Or in some lonely home where hanging portraits have flowers hanging down them like an adorned garland,
I remember this man that I once saw on a train, he got on the metro in Mambalam station and he talked to himself with tears in his eyes,
there was a deathly silence in the train’s compartment,
the smell of fear held most men hostage, the women had scowls in their eyes, those fair symbols that men hopelessly chase after that day had nothing but the plainness of human ugliness in its most rawest element.
And yet we pretend to act like man can be a God, when he has but the character of demons, I accept my own limitations, I struggle to deal with this issue myself, I truly don’t know what to do, I stand like a man before a man bleeding , not knowing whether I have the power to change the cruelty of fate.

Is He Jesus in disguise…? Or an Angel testing human hearts…?
Are we so dulled by insensitivity that we have forgotten the power of love…?
Should I share the gospel..? or should I try to make him a friend of mine…? Would he even listen when all he knows is poverty, hurt, pain and hopelessness…? Things I know only faintly about..?
But isn’t the gospel the solution to all human hearts…?
Would my King want me to behave this way…? Should I kneel down and pray and ask my Father for ways to reach that brother of mine who has given up and has lost his way…?
Are we all walking in the right ways…?
Don’t we know that we are all accountable for all that we have ever done one day….? That we can’t lie or make excuses when we stand before the Immortal Lion called Yahweh…?
Are we that foolish to think that God does not listen to the secret thoughts in our heart…??
Do we even care about people who bear not the slightest resemblance to who we are in the depths of our hearts…?
Yet we seem to be more interested in selfies, extravagant dinners with friends, splurging on a system that is only bent on making our pockets empty,
We put more energy in photographs captured in the midst of clubbing, painting an image of social wealth, Power, self importance and a selfish hierarchy,
We pay ridiculous sums for clothes that we put on to impress people who seldom see us for who we really are,
Would we act this way if we knew that God watches everything that we do…? Are we citizens of heaven or Hell’s proudest heirs…?



How amazing it is that my Lord who rules the Universe, who is so pure and Holy that only Heaven deserves Him, can come right into my corner of the world and into my tiny space, or little corner or room and be right there, in the midst of all our boring little lives while we keep chasing things that seldom satisfy… I wonder how His heart feels each time we go after something He knows will only break our hearts, why is it so hard to do the right things…? Why is it so hard to truly sacrifice our lazy attitudes for the zealous power of righteousness…? So many times I get confused when I see big crowds of people, so busy and self indulgent on the streets… teeming with life… occupying every inch of the street… walking and hurrying to Lord knows where, so blindly caught up in their roles and their perceived place in the world… They hardly seem to care about God or about where they are headed… Do they even wish to know Him…? To truly find out who He is…? To search for Him with all their hearts like their lives depended on it in the same manner that they would go after a girl that they love…? They all seem to think that they are going to live forever, they act like everything is in their control and like there is nothing wrong about this world… they act like their attractive lifestyle can really reach into that void in their heart that they keep running away from… Wake up God is much closer than you think… Seek Him while He can be found.


Are you Lonely ….? A poem or rather a collection of my thoughts and emotions


In this busy, fast world, 

you sometimes lose your way, 
sometimes it might feel like no one cares, 
No one seems interested in who you are, 
or what you’ve done, or what you’ve become
You look around and it seems like the world moves on, not bothered if you’re there, 
You wonder if you are the only person who feels lost and out of bounds, 
In this Perplexing world it feels like sometimes no one cares about who you are or what you think,
Their rejections slice the heart’s skin like cold razor blades, 
and the way they move over you seems like a blow to the face, 
the heart breaks and this sudden sadness creeps, 
And you feel this unbearable inward loneliness, 
Now you might have taken huge steps to develop yourself, 
grown from timidity to courage, but then you realize that it does not last, 
What you take pride in is lost in the rows and masses of what feels similar, 
the cruel thing about this crooked world is that it does not see you as you wish or want to be seen, 
It sees only the image and moves over what is hidden beneath, 
It sees what is on the outside, it accepts you if you behave in the way that it wants to, and if you don’t it moves on , 
and you stand alone as the crowd rushes by you, 
you probably get a hint of what the homeless, the poor and the so called ugly are treated to every single day of their life, 
Only the Phony, the superficial and the manipulative seem to have it going on, 
Life is not a competition, Life is not a rat race, 
those are things that people made up in order to feel powerful, arrogant, prideful and fake, 
If you really scratch beneath the surface, 
you will find that there is no such thing called perfect, 
But there is hope yet, 
your dissatisfaction with the world is because you search for something complete, 
The world is filled only with fragments, grains and limited things, 
Love is not something we created, it was God’s nature to begin with, 
and He wants to share that love with you, because you are His to begin with,

The Cross is not just another incident in history, 
The Cross is at the very centre of all humanity, 
God Himself walked up that rugged plain stricken with rough stones, sharp and dusty, bleeding with His bare feet, 
Shouldering the very curse that separated men from a Loving Creator, 
Holy, Just and Fair, 
Spotless yet humbling Himself to evil burdens that were never His to begin with, 
uniting with invisible cords the fate of a billion unsuspecting souls, 
and opening their eyes away from this fallen world and into the promise of heaven and into the heart of a loving Father, 
My King did not die that day, yes the spear pierced his stomach, and yes nails were driven through his palms, 
and He hung there on the cross mocked and scorned by mere men unaware of their eternal destiny, 
but that was the Father’s plan to solve the problem of sin, 
perhaps you do not see how this is relevant to the world’s sickness, 
but dear friend, the world does not see you because the world is only interested in its own merriment and happiness, 
only God is interested in you, He hears your heart’s cry through the noise, and He knows your pain, and He wants only to reach out and heal you off it. 
The great Physician’s skill has mended my scars and hurts and I enjoy normality today knowing that I fought greatly with life herself to comprehend where truth lies, and that battle almost took away my life, 
And He can do the same for you, if not more, 
He will help you see how life can only be found in Him, 
He will help you see beyond this world and into the world beyond, 
He will help you cope with the relentless pressures of life, 
He will love you when you are at your worst and He will love you when you might have hurt Him with something terrible, 
He can help you see with fresh new eyes, and He will give you a new heart, 
Why don’t you put away those vain hopes for a better world and go instead to God Himself and invite Him into your heart and see what happens….?

To Whom Do I post to …? – A Late Night Poem to Facebook


Who do people wish to appeal to in this realm of restless comments and impressive profiles…? The invisible market of feelings and thoughts has kindled my seeker’s curiosity… Why are people locked into Facebook…? Do they wish to appeal to the other person’s grace…? 

Do they seek that in a being, every bit as created, corrupt, limited, imperfect, sinful and self centered as they are…? 
Don’t they know about my Savior hanging on a cross for their most hideous sins…? Do they even know who Jesus is…? 
Or are people searching for love, that vile deceiver that leads a man into the bridge between life and death…? 
Can their search for love find people who fulfill all of their expectations…? 
I know that one in a thousand finds something that appears to be a lot like love, the rest end up with bruises, scars and aches. 
Jesus said that He was the only way… The Only Way to Truth, to Life and to Eternal salvation.. Why isn’t the world bothered by these thoughts…? 
Is the other person’s approval really that important…? Can that person’s like give that soul life when he meets his end…?
We constantly want people to like us but we seem to forget the One who made us…! 
I know someone who can not only give a person life but pull him or her away from this world and its madness… His name is Jesus and believing in Him can offer a man eternal life, safe and ensured…! 
I know that all truth leads to Him and Him alone, 
That no matter what one believes, when a man faces Him , they remember how they have been and cry and weep, 
Ask Him to be your friend and forget the extroverted girl who posts pictures for the world to consume, the one who turned down your request for friendship
He will show you what the value of a life truly can become, and that stray comment by that friend whose opinion seems sharper than a rusty nail, 
Jesus will break your illusions, He will plant truths instead and root your feet on the ground, For life is simple and not a messed up subterranean realm of invisible forces, 
He will ask you to love those people whom you despise and teach you how to take away the evil that burns in your insides,
Culture is shaped by what appears modern, perceptions therefore lie not in truth but in what appeals to the masses, and has become tainted by the great ocean called ‘the subjective’,
We don’t hesitate to post what we feel, but do we ever tell God about how we really feel…? 
In those feelings are we not beautifying one side of ourselves and hiding the obvious…? That we need outward entertainment to cover the deep inward barrenness…?? 
Are we proponents of truth or are we mere tools to build the superficial and the artificial…? Do we benefit from namesake friendships …? Have we forgotten our own friends…? Our own people..? The lost..? The forgotten…? The Scorned..? 
If God showed up today in our lives would we fall down on His feet and beg for forgiveness or would we merely ask Him to move away and get back to our Facebooks….?