why we can't have good things
So Moscow police show exactly how they treat gay people in their fantastically forward-thinking country by beating them up and arresting them, and saying this awesome piece:"(Gay pride events) not only destroy moral foundations of our society, but also purposefully provoke disturbances that will threaten the lives and safety of Moscow residents and guests," City Hall spokesman Sergei Tsoi was quoted by the ITAR-Tass news agency as saying Saturday.
It's just depressingly hilarious that the only people who provoked disturbances that did threaten lives were the police employed to keep the peace in the first place. Something tells me that right now, millions of people who never even read about this quietly agree anyway. We all live in a world dotted with pockets like this.
My mom also told me about Hell again. I was telling her about a meeting I'd be having to see if I could help out at a punk rock band's video shoot this coming week. She started talking about our grandparents' therapist who had the most disturbing story. This therapist has worked with a number of old people, and two really stood out. He was at both of their deathbeds. The first woman started describing heat and darkness, asking why it was so hot all of a sudden and why she couldn't see. The next one described peace and light as she slowly stopped breathing. We know where this goes.
For the record, the word "Christian" leaves a very bad taste in my mouth, mostly because of individuals who've generally soiled the term for me. For the record as well, that's the only problem I have with the word "Christian" because I would call myself one in a better time. There are convictions and things I believe in which I don't think are proper to talk about in any circumstance unless I am asked first, and that's something I stand by. I believe in God. I don't know what else to explain, not that it requires so, in my opinion.
It's a bit unfair for people, anyone, to suddenly bring the afterlife, or eternity up, just because they think that someone else- that's me- is possibly going to hell. Not to sound trite, but- you don't know me. Who are you to pretend you know what I pray for, who I pray to, what I live by?
If this Bible of ours says that all sins are equal, be it a white lie at work or genocide, and that one single sin can damn you eternally, who are you to call me out on my propensity for boys instead of girls, when lusting after either is a sin, and when prejudgment itself is the same? If equality were to mean such to you, you would stop judging my very equal-to-yours sin, and wonder why you're doing all of this in the first place.
Right now just thinking of my mother and God profoundly exhausts me. We've always been going in circles, and for the longest time I thought we were satisfied.
It's just depressingly hilarious that the only people who provoked disturbances that did threaten lives were the police employed to keep the peace in the first place. Something tells me that right now, millions of people who never even read about this quietly agree anyway. We all live in a world dotted with pockets like this.
My mom also told me about Hell again. I was telling her about a meeting I'd be having to see if I could help out at a punk rock band's video shoot this coming week. She started talking about our grandparents' therapist who had the most disturbing story. This therapist has worked with a number of old people, and two really stood out. He was at both of their deathbeds. The first woman started describing heat and darkness, asking why it was so hot all of a sudden and why she couldn't see. The next one described peace and light as she slowly stopped breathing. We know where this goes.
For the record, the word "Christian" leaves a very bad taste in my mouth, mostly because of individuals who've generally soiled the term for me. For the record as well, that's the only problem I have with the word "Christian" because I would call myself one in a better time. There are convictions and things I believe in which I don't think are proper to talk about in any circumstance unless I am asked first, and that's something I stand by. I believe in God. I don't know what else to explain, not that it requires so, in my opinion.
It's a bit unfair for people, anyone, to suddenly bring the afterlife, or eternity up, just because they think that someone else- that's me- is possibly going to hell. Not to sound trite, but- you don't know me. Who are you to pretend you know what I pray for, who I pray to, what I live by?
If this Bible of ours says that all sins are equal, be it a white lie at work or genocide, and that one single sin can damn you eternally, who are you to call me out on my propensity for boys instead of girls, when lusting after either is a sin, and when prejudgment itself is the same? If equality were to mean such to you, you would stop judging my very equal-to-yours sin, and wonder why you're doing all of this in the first place.
Right now just thinking of my mother and God profoundly exhausts me. We've always been going in circles, and for the longest time I thought we were satisfied.