The people in your background don’t matter



In the end it’s not the people in the background who matter, I mean really.., think about it.., it’s always about you and how you take it all in and live…but you know who these people in the background are. Imagine this, It might be a harmless KFC luncheon that you wanted to go to. Up and until you arrived, you were full of excitement.., the joy of finally sinking your taste buds into that esteemed, legendary Zinger Burger.., the thought that you were going to be sharing your space with a hundred or other strangers as some vague, rock song that made you feel colder and more fearful than you anticipated never ever struck you. You see that’s the trouble with wanting to be hip, cross cultural and well put.., a thousand other strangers feel the strange way, and seem to take it as a challenge to sink into a character, that can only be talked about as a mask that hides their vulnerabilities, that hides how they cry when they feel sad, or hides how real they can be.., and who can blame them..? They think, feel, emote and behave just like a million other people so hell bent on expressing stuff on the outside that they have forgotten the inside.., they have forgotten their character.., their spirit.., and their soul.. And who can blame them..? The demonic god of this world has blinded their eyes.., their hearts and their minds.., they are swirling like sparkling champagne, intoxicated with their flesh.., worshipping their lives.., worshipping this moment and pretending that this impermanent moment was a selfie of their very existence. How foolish these souls were.. Had they ever heard of Hell..? Of Christ..? Of His purchase of God’s forgiveness on the Cross..? Idiots.., greedy and deceived, mankind.

You got there, and you immediately feel hurt, threatened, pained and awkward…, you can’t be yourself here… Memories come rushing back…, that English school that your blue collar working parents were able to get you into after begging and pleading with the refined Principal or headmistress who was a below the radar heartless cod, yes the very one that required a tidy sum of money and in exchange it promised to magically transform you into a product that knew manners, could marry a foreigner, become a doctor and have class and refinement. But you never fit there… People are not meant to fit, they are only meant to find their fit and niche, and then live for it gloriously and with passion. The purpose of education was to kindle a fire in the darkness of being, not erase the tender, innocent dreamer who felt the challenge of becoming like the crowd, impossible, difficult and unnecessary. Those memories come in, and oh, the pain.., the scars that nobody sees.., the hurts that still live within no matter how far you run.., they all come rushing back.. because of this same symptom of a dominant class of species, well bred, competitive, sharp and well in tune with the world… out classing others…, it was Survival of the fittest wasn’t it..? Wrong.., there is no survival, there is not weak species.., people are souls.., people are lost.., people need God.., and the presumed weak man has treasures far greater in value than the strong, proud conqueror.

You feel the stabs of the idolatry of pride all around you, you feel it making you insignificant.. making you small.., making you , you feel the cackling self indulgent laughs of a generation consumed with joy at it’s mutual narcissism, and indifferent to the painful reality all around it. The culture seems, feels proud, arrogantly non inclusive and pompously elitish.., you feel excluded.., the fake cheery, make believe voice of the cash attender uses his memorized lines and flings it at you…, almost condescending.., as though his mastery of that bit of memorized dialogue is equivalent to Albert Einstein’s E=mc2… full of theatrical sophistication.., he stares at you irate at being forced to have a job just for the money.., irritated, impatient and tense that the person opposite of him refuses to speak…, he assumes a fleeting sense of flagrant pride at his Westernization… How ironic that a food outlet consumed with the killing of chickens, consumed with financial profit can inspire such a tremendous ego in a person devoid of such intelligence. Outside this shop a different language is spoken.., the deep emotion and soul of the land, with her deep desire to be remembered, celebrated and lived through the souls of all the folk of Chennai.., and meanwhile English is expected from a Western Franchise, it’s only fair.., but you can’t blame the workers alone…, the customers too brought baggage, their heavy egoic baggage.., they would snap.., bite, and demand.., and speak often in the sensational.., Poor fools, both of them were keenly aware of what the other could do, and they lived in a wary caution of the other’s nature, using defensiveness as strength and using repressed frustration as their language.

Snobs lunched around, cracking jokes, but they were not snobs.. they were humans.. flesh and blood.., with personalities.., with education bred into them.., but there were spiritual influences, inspirations in their thoughts.., in their actions and in their lives, unseen, hidden and parading as their own mirror images that lived within them.., and they fed this dark force their lives, their thoughts and their own fallen nature… Demonic principalities, dominions, powers of the air, and the spirits that influenced territories were at work in the hearts of fallen mankind breeding iniquity, breeding disobedience, breeding rebelliousness, breeding hatred towards each other beyond reasons that one could perceive, perhaps men unconsciously absorbed demonic hatred and presumed it to be their own. Where is the flesh in all this, where is a man’s individuality in all of this..? Why can’t they see God in all of this..?


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