There is another who wears our face. He rises before us in the morning and Speaks before we have a thought. He keeps our appointments, Answers to our names, and Carries around our favorite sins like relics. The old Germanic tales said that To see your double was to see your death. Perhaps they were right. Perhaps he is the death we have been living. Saint Paul called him the old man, The self we must put off, Forged from ten thousand small consents. He is a distorted copy of

The Fathers describe how demons sow evil thoughts. What's truly frightening is that someone near us Can do their bidding using a human voice. At the table, On the phone, In the pew beside us During times of sadness and dread Even moments of joy and laughter. But the absolute worst comes when we are at our weakest. Their words become our thoughts. Their sounds become our cries. Their actions lead us into temptation. They accomplish this by watching and waiting Until that very

Insidious recusancy is The soul's refusal To kneel without surrendering. In an earlier time, the recusant At least confessed his division openly. Bearing the cost of his conscience before God. But this generation? Its quieter defiance keeps the refusal and Forsakes the honesty. It comes to worship, Lifts its voice in the psalm, Bows at the appointed hour. In other words, It withholds the heart, The one true offering that is asked. Outwardly faithful, Inwardly withdrawn, It pr

Diabolic obstruction is the Dark art of the Closed door Disguised as an open one. It does not destroy the path But complicates it. Placing delay Where there should be motion, Doubt Where there should be resolve. There are hundreds of 'Reasonable' hesitations 'Good' intentions 'Better' suggestions 'Practical' ideas and 'Real' love. Its genius is patience. It rarely forbids outright. It merely postpones ... Qualifies ... Entangles ... Obfuscates. It knows that a will deferred o

There is nothing accidental about this silence. It is curated as a weapon dressed as absence. To ghost another human being with intent is To exercise a Luciferian arrogance. It is the belief that one soul may simply Erase another without consequence or confession. It is wrath without declaration, Cruelty without fingerprints. The perpetrator vanishes, yet their damage metastasizes In the victim's mind indefinitely, which is precisely the design. They do not leave you grieving

There is a black obelisk that Rose without warning. Ominous, absolute, and indifferent. Quaintly called 'the silent treatment,' It was erected without consent Like a monolith from an ancient, merciless cosmos. Its surface offers nothing. No handhold and no reflection, No light and no warmth. You circle it day in and day out. You try to speak to it. You implore, but it gives nothing. This is not absence. It is a presence. A deliberate, destructive dark energy. Its purpose is t

What a trio they've been Taking their turns Denying their actions Reframing events Misdirecting priorities Dread-inducing tirades Demanding obedience Plotting an ignominious decline. It all began so simply, so quietly Feelings dismissed Thoughts doubted Mind questioned Heart damaged Love twisted Loyalty muddled Priorities confused. Then it worsened Belittling continued Apologies demanded Never valued Second guessed Future scrapped Confusion reigned Evidence destroyed. Their p

Tragic circumstances are neither coordinated events nor isolated actions born simply from maniacal factions and figures who seek to harm or destroy those with whom they disagree. These calamities we experience, and witness with ever greater frequency, are symptoms of a deeper crisis within modern civilization itself. The disintegration of human value, the emptiness of modern existence, and the discontinuity, fragmentation, and chaos within each individual have created a vacuu

We built it and We've been so proud of it. The machine, I mean. The efficient, soul-crushing Machine that has become our life. And no, I'm not talking about the Incessant whine about the marginalized or the Aggressive inanities of any number of Theories espoused, processes employed, and Practices pursued. I'm talking about a culture of noise, of Constant activity, and the Superficial distractions that led to a Deep spiritual disconnection and the Deliberate denial of the Divi

Dark is the way and cold is the night Down the desolate path of Denial These desperate people Take drastic steps to Dig deep graves Where...