religion means
treat as a mirror or seek ideals in a world modeling universality. life is
given meaning in sad eyes doing wrongness the sympathy we value for loved
souls. ethics talk an ought language in situations by which a person
should behave. morals converse with actions, a type of action hurting others,
if it can’t hurt a person, it isn’t considered by moral interest. religion is
antipathy for academicians, culling out ingredients, writing books, discarding
un-capturing parts. left pictureless aside for insights, where certain
readership puts us into a certain category. most start with religion—sailing snake
river, trekking scorpion valley, eating remains from a wolf. an ethical woman
reflects, each slip is excruciating, she cares about what others think or feel
about her credibility. her customs are precision. she’s warring her inner
animal. most men treasure her company. a moralist is conflicted. she condemns
actions she partakes of. she plays a flute demanding inexplicable evidence,
knowing wrongness. we measure then good versus bad conduct, right versus wrong
actions, and we treat as a rule determining what type of behaviors we approve
of ...
I sit in silence
listening to drums with images/persons at visual inside. I have no term for
this, maybe envisioning, however, this requires effort. these ladies these old
acquaintances they sleep or facial perspective or walking to a cave. I hear
silence over fans over drums over soul-keeping. frustration comes. I seem too
silent, too critical, too off his radar. particles of dust my shed skin
invisible/pictureless/palpable miseries. I rethink as most do, green grass must
be at those regions. a film in me a barbeque in us with so many more to meet. a
religious will sin. an ethicist will try harder. a moralist will hide tragedy.
a stoic will lack passion. an epicurean will die from too much exposure. a
skeptic will soon be seduced—too many possess what is admirable. and a
spiritualist is a sensual creature.
a humanist—it seems—might
be able to combine all the above.
