Went into a church recently,
it's a building and then, it's not.
It's amazing how it flips back and forth. I mean, it's like this humongous 'imaginary friend network': there is physically nothing in there, but people who are in on the game will see it like there is and interact with it.
I thought it was kind of cool.
The best part is, they sell you the unicorm conundrum:
"Once long ago, it existed, but it just disappeared, but someday, if you believe it hard enough, it will come back."
The sweetest thing is, sometimes if you are driving on the road at night, and you think you see the glimpse of white rear arse of a whitish horse of a neighbouring farm, you would think for an instant, "holy geez, is that a unicorn? Yeah... it gotta be it...". And that's how the
I THINK I saw a unicorn anecdote becomes I SAW a unicorn", cuz Faith not only could move mountains, it could also erase words, change alibis ( often into testimonials), and best of all perpetuate an event that never really happen.
Still:
What ever gets you through the day huh?
I am not against all this funny brouheheheh. I mean if the shit works use it. If we need to believe in a horse with an antenna jutting out of it's forehead, kewlies. I know guys who smoke pot and saw worse.
I buy the odd lottery ticket cuz It's fun. It's good to be able to buy a piece of hope. Not to say that we should all rush out and buy a ticket. If livelihood is a problem, get your head out of your arse and save your pennies, if $3 is gonna make a diff between starving or eating, go fill your bellies. But for those people like me who don't really starve but pretty much is still hungry from not getting all the food I want, then, $3 gets you through that extra mile, cuz I bought myself a week of hope or a month of hope-- depending on when the draw's being made.
For that small interim, I can imagine myself holding the lucky ticket and all material problems will disappear. It's a lie I buy, and I paid $3 for it-- because I can afford it. because $3 for a week works out to about 43 cents a day. Of course, the tricky part is not to buy too much hope, becuae when it doesn't pan out then you get stuck with a load of hope gone bad-- disillusionment.
Hope and Faith is like morphine, alittle can make a shitty experience better, like post-op recovery, but too much will cause an addiction.
Surgeon General's Warning: use sparingly please.
it's a building and then, it's not.
It's amazing how it flips back and forth. I mean, it's like this humongous 'imaginary friend network': there is physically nothing in there, but people who are in on the game will see it like there is and interact with it.
I thought it was kind of cool.
The best part is, they sell you the unicorm conundrum:
"Once long ago, it existed, but it just disappeared, but someday, if you believe it hard enough, it will come back."
The sweetest thing is, sometimes if you are driving on the road at night, and you think you see the glimpse of white rear arse of a whitish horse of a neighbouring farm, you would think for an instant, "holy geez, is that a unicorn? Yeah... it gotta be it...". And that's how the
I THINK I saw a unicorn anecdote becomes I SAW a unicorn", cuz Faith not only could move mountains, it could also erase words, change alibis ( often into testimonials), and best of all perpetuate an event that never really happen.
Still:
What ever gets you through the day huh?
I am not against all this funny brouheheheh. I mean if the shit works use it. If we need to believe in a horse with an antenna jutting out of it's forehead, kewlies. I know guys who smoke pot and saw worse.
I buy the odd lottery ticket cuz It's fun. It's good to be able to buy a piece of hope. Not to say that we should all rush out and buy a ticket. If livelihood is a problem, get your head out of your arse and save your pennies, if $3 is gonna make a diff between starving or eating, go fill your bellies. But for those people like me who don't really starve but pretty much is still hungry from not getting all the food I want, then, $3 gets you through that extra mile, cuz I bought myself a week of hope or a month of hope-- depending on when the draw's being made.
For that small interim, I can imagine myself holding the lucky ticket and all material problems will disappear. It's a lie I buy, and I paid $3 for it-- because I can afford it. because $3 for a week works out to about 43 cents a day. Of course, the tricky part is not to buy too much hope, becuae when it doesn't pan out then you get stuck with a load of hope gone bad-- disillusionment.
Hope and Faith is like morphine, alittle can make a shitty experience better, like post-op recovery, but too much will cause an addiction.
Surgeon General's Warning: use sparingly please.
posted by *** X at
5:26 PM
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