"I have said things to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world."

I'm all about that truth. It really will get better. All things will be restored. The pain will end. It really will.

 

Jesus was not sent by God to die in order to appease a violent deity, nor did he defeat the powers by dying on the cross. His death was not an atoning sacrifice or a way of bringing a scapegoat mechanism to light. It was a political murder meant to sow terror and to undermine hope. His violent death exposes the domination system as oppressive and violent. His resurrection challenges the ultimate power of the system and invites us to be people of God here and now where oppressive systems remain powerful and must be challenged. Jesus teaches us how to live and shows us the risks of living God’s compassion in an unjust world.

Walter Wink (via locusimperium)

I think there’s way more to Christ on the cross than this too, but it’s a nice little start.  But geeze, there is so so so much embedded in that great act that it can’t be unpacked just in a small paragraph or even one sermon.  It’s so nuanced and layered, which just makes it all that much more amazing.  Clearly the greatest act of history is Jesus dying on the cross then rising again.  Because I mean, this doesn’t even touch on how this act united us with the divine and spearheaded the process of total reconciliation of all of creation to God.  It does mean so much for the here and now, and I agree that that’s often underplayed or ignored, but it also does mean so much for what’s to come.

Good Friday

I don’t think Christians dwell enough on the current societal implications of Jesus on the cross as far as the template it left to be followed. It champions the idea that in order to end oppression and suffering, one must join in directly with the oppressed and the suffering as opposed to being a “distant savior” who still holds on to one’s luxury and anything that places them at a higher, better position than the oppressed.

Christ is unique in the fact that He took on the pain and suffering of others as His own and made for liberation through that. To celebrate Good Friday is not just to gratefully acknowledge what Christ has done, but to truly and deeply understand what it means to “take up one’s cross” and follow the pattern of sacrificial selflessness that places us in solidarity and equality with the oppressed, the suffering, the impoverished, etc, willing to bear the burdens of and suffer on the behalf of all others in love and unity in order to come together to defeat the oppressive forces and institutions creating a current hell right now for so many people in this world.

That’s what Good Friday means to me.

Despite of everything, I still kind of want to see a text from you, saying something to the likes of, “I want to see you.”

But maybe it’s for the better that that doesn’t happen, because I’m not strong enough not to fall into that trap.

Why in spite of my anger some part of me still doesn’t mind being used by you is beyond me.

Fuck, you did something to me that night.  And I can’t recover from me.  You burrowed into me and even though you seem to be gone, I can’t get you out.

Why?

Apr 16th

Not gonna lie, thought Harry was a woman at first here and was like “Ooh, she is cute!” lol Whyyyy?

(Source: sstyls)

kushandwizdom:

Good Vibes HERE

But for real, though.  But also an acknowledgement of and apology for the very blatantly mixed signals you gave me.  Or rather, the very clear signal you gave me that has only become mixed with you ignoring me.

kushandwizdom:

Good Vibes HERE

But for real, though.  But also an acknowledgement of and apology for the very blatantly mixed signals you gave me.  Or rather, the very clear signal you gave me that has only become mixed with you ignoring me.

(Source: thelovenotebook)

would’ve never gotten into your bed, that’s for sure

would’ve never gotten into your bed, that’s for sure

Me watching Titanic by myself on a Tuesday night and inevitably tearing up during the very last scene - as usual - even though I honestly barely was watching the whole time because I was doing other things, then proceeding to listen to the “chipmunk version” of “My Heart Will Go On” and laughing so hard that I once again tear up is the number one reason why I am absolutely single, I am sure.

Stayed up and got some shots of the “blood moon” from my roof with my 60D.  This was about the best I could geti.

Stayed up and got some shots of the “blood moon” from my roof with my 60D.  This was about the best I could geti.

Diary of a Broken Heart, Entry #17

In which I get unnecessarily dramatic for a certain effect as I reminiscence on my stupid past.

Do you remember when we stayed up late to watch a meteor shower? In fuckin’ New York City of all places, so I’m not entirely sure what we hoped to accomplish.  It was the former edge of winter, too, so you grabbed a blanket to take along with us.  We had class the next day, but meteor shower!  Besides, I’ve always had a penchant for seeing shooting stars (I’ve seen so many before and since), so I hoped we’d catch a glimpse of something.

We tried to break…well, sneak into the roof of our building first by using the card key that granted us access to the front door to no avail.  As we walked outside, actually, we saw one of the community’s security approaching.  Trying to look innocent, we rushed by him, giggling sneakily along the way.

Gah, Fall 2009 was something.  It was the worst semester in so many ways, but then I remember thinking about how all those moments with you redeemed them.

We lived in Stuyvesant Town at the time, which from a distance looked like the projects and were kind of the same idea as them - except considerably more money (how fortunate of us to be so privileged, really).  It spanned probably about 7 blocks and 2 or 3 avenues of space on the Lower East Side, right at Alphabet City, and was full of identical buildings within it’s own little community within the city, with a playground, a fountain, lots of greenery and on one side, it bordered the East River.

We settled ourselves at a bench by our building, shared the blanket and trained our eyes on the sky.  One of our other roommates joined us briefly near the end, but it was mostly just us.  I remember I saw the first shooting star - you were upset to have missed it.  But the second one - and the only other one the bright cityscape would allow us to see that night - we both saw.  And we felt pretty accomplished for it.

We gave up around 3 or 4 in the morning if I remember correctly (and it’s a wonder that I do remember correctly, seeing how it’ll be 5 years once November comes around again), but decided against better judgment (like I said, it was a weekday - we both had class in the morning), we decided to go to our favorite spot across the street from Stuy Town.  The appropriately named “Coffee Shop” (so creative, I know) on 14th Street and Avenue A.  I’m sure I had french toast - I always had their french toast.  We returned back home at around 5 that morning.

Such a simple moment, but I appreciated it so much at the time.  It was so definitive of how we were in a way.  Subtle comrades, embarking on so much with each other and just each other.  I remember how the way our friendship blossomed during those months made that dreadful semester so much better.  It was a worth so much to me.  You were so important to me.  I loved you so much.

Then I guess when the going got tough, when you could no longer quite have me in the way you wanted, when I couldn’t live up to your expectations, when I could no longer give you enough to keep your anal ass satisfied - none of that matters.  Not those late nights when it was just you and me, those memories we formed, when no one else seemed to be giving a shit yet I came through, loyally and dedicated.  I guess it was easy for you to throw away three years of solidified friendship over a misunderstanding and some jealousy and life taking me in a different direction.

I really don’t miss you anymore.  And I definitely am not bitter.  I’m past the point of reconciling.  Goodness knows I’ve tried so many times.  Geeze, we started in New York and now live in the same greater metro area still (though contrary to what you always claimed, you don’t really live in Los Angeles.  live in Los Angeles.  You live so far east that you’d have to give me a gas stipend to willingly go there), yet you’ve decided even with three years behind all the drama, it’s still not worth being friendly.  So it’s whatever to me now.

But it’s still a shame, nonetheless.  Especially because you took a sizable piece of me with you - more than just my effort, I gave myself into that friendship.  I shared parts with me that I didn’t with anyone else.  Haven’t with anyone else, because we spent so much time together and just naturally melded together.

We won’t even go into how certain elements of how we were together definitely blurred platonic lines, which just makes it all worst when it boils down to it.

There are many different walls around my heart (both in platonic senses and romantic) that have been built up throughout the years by many different people and causes, but you single-handedly are responsible for at least two of those walls.

Was what we have not worth anything at all?  That’s all that lingers now.  Is all of my effort, my love, and whatever else there was worth so little that after years of substantiating, you could throw it away easily without even a second thought?

Will the people who mean the most, give the most to, invest the most in, connect to the most in, ever stop hurting me?  I really don’t know.  I’m not sure what to do sometimes.