Are we wrong to ask for God to help stop the bleeding when the wounds are self-inflicted?
We’ve built a world where violence is sacrosanct.
Murder is a sin but we sin, right?
And even if sin is forgiven, does that forgiveness mirror a hall pass?
We were wiped out once before, so is that why we don’t fear it?
I’ve felt violence, I’ve given violence.
Death built character.
Love destroys character.
What even is character? What even is love?
“Love is kind and patient
Never jealous, boastful,
proud or rude.”
1 Corinthians 13:4.
There is nothing kind about state-sanctioned violence.
We’re becoming impatient to watching us die by the hands of those who are sworn in by the state to protect us.
We are jealous of peace. It seems unattainable.
We boast of American exceptionalism when our level of killing is exceptional.
No one of us are proud of where we come from.
Rude behavior is deadly.
Love is supposed to never fail but it does.
We can love enough but we still are judged. We can be peaceful enough and we still are killed.
Peace begets violence. Playing nice gets you assassinated.
No one will try to play me. So I scowl.
Scowl to hide the pain of what I think others may think of doing to me.
But when I get checked, I freeze. That’s not me.
My kindness is taken for weakness.
But fight or flights makes me superhuman.
But I rather be seen as human.
But I’m a statistic.
Statistics gets you murdered.