Thursday, December 16, 2010

vapor pressure

My stomach gnarls as i read
smooth words drip
one letter at a time
from finger tips
tapping 'cross your key board

You write of wounds
your own and others
yet what of those
you've inflicted
amidst your so-called
justified tone

A hypocrite of hypocrites
one who offers healing
while exacting harms
without remorse
dismissing the inflictions
as inconsequential

Such can cause my blood to boil
perhaps burning away the chaff
of my own self-hatred
to which you at one time
offered solace

Your genius calls
and you are heeding
i'm sure some will profit
i pray it be not at the expense
of another wounded soul



When I read certain essays or articles or sharings from people who offer help and healing among those who are in process of recovery and rediscovery after cultic involvement... When I read certain pieces penned by authors with whom I've had personal and intimate experience of their own hypocrisy exacted toward myself and/or others that I know... When I read such, I sometimes find myself feeling rage, leaning toward a feeling of hatred, of their words, and even of them. Their words to me lack authenticity, even though the words may sound compassionate, smoothly laced with honey.

No doubt, the authors have helped some people...maybe many...and perhaps even me. But then The Way helped me too. Other organizations, by whom people have been harmed, have helped other people...and initially maybe helped even those who ended up harmed.

As I've stated elsewhere: In any so-called service/support organization, if people are expendable, therein the org is fraudulent.

We all harm others at some point. It is the denial, the dismissing of those harms, that makes the hypocrite.

At times, I imagine most all humans find themselves as the hypocrite. Hopefully we own up and thus become more Hippocratic than hypocritic.

The catharsis of the keyboard. It doth help me when anger tries to squeeze its grip upon my heart toward vengeance.

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