A Few Good Men : Tales Of Another Subordination (Part 2)









“Silence is golden, but sometimes it is just plain yellow.” There are times when silence is the best defense for the more we speak, the closer we are to defeat. But there are times when silence is yellow, it is an act of timidity, and so, to speak is the little evil thing you could only do to make all things right – so I say it here.



I remember a scenario from the movie entitled “DOUBT” where in a priest said in one of his sermons that – gossip is BAD!... it is like stabbing a pillow and letting all its feathers fly away in the air, and when you wanted to gather all the feathers back into the pillow, you CAN'T... you just CAN'T, because you don't know where they've gone.



So never ever gossip... or should I say, never ever stab other's back, or a better phrase, never ever dig a hole in your neighbors backyard because when you dig a hole, you are actually digging your own pit. Never ever say something bad against your neighbor just because you are envious or jealous or just a plain hypocrite.



YOU...who keep on gossiping, who is like an angel in the face of someone but when that someone turns her back on you, you stab her to death... YOU ARE A HYPOCRITE! YOU ARE A BACK STABBER! You dig a hole in your neighbors backyard just because you cannot find a pit for her to fall into, so you dig a hole for her death, but what you are unaware of is that, that hole you are digging for her is actually your own pit to death.




You have done your hypocrisy once even to your own friend. Your very own friend for four or five years, and still, you have that black gut to stab her. So I am NOT surprised that you again stabbed another back only this time she is not your friend but your rival. (You can do it to your friend, you can do it to your enemy.) Because you are green with envy so you polished your very sharp sword – (That is your evil tongue!) and start blobbing gossip against her. Again, I am NOT surprised! You have done it once, you did it again... and so you can do it again.



So who will be your next victim, you venomous serpent? You are evil to the bones. Your colour is the color of you soul or maybe blacker. Does your heart feel a tinge of conscience? Don't you feel guilty that someone loses her job just because of your own selfish evil devices? And to that little evil friend of yours who have done the same crime but to a different person – don't you feel guilty that a family who's sole bread winner loses her job just because of your evil scheme? Don't you feel guilty for her kids for stealing their bright future because you made their mother lose her job?

And back to YOU! (The main course of the dish) Are you happy now because your rival finally lose her job too? Of course you are happy! And you don't feel any guilt because you don't have a conscience – right?!



YOU ARE ALL SELFISH EVILS!

I pity your evil ways... I pity your little evil friend who did the same thing but to a different person. I pity you both because you have sold your poor souls to the devil and you are not aware of it.

And so I pray for you conscience, I pray for your conviction.


I mean no personal thing in this blog... I just want everybody to open their eyes and examine their conscience. And may the Lord up I heaven who can see the black through whites and the white through blacks and even the gray in between judge these wicked people.



P.S.
You want the truth? Here is the truth...

YOU NEVER REALLY HAD MY TRUST SINCE DAY ONE!
YOU WILL NEVER HAVE MY TRUST... NEVER EVER!
AND GUESS WHAT!... YOU NEVER HAD IT ANYWAY!



P. P.S.

“Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.” PROVERBS 18:21 (KJV)

A recital is a musical performance by one person. To perform in a recital, one must learn and practice well his/her skills in music.


I started playing guitar when I was 9 years old. My father bought me an acoustic guitar as a birthday present then. He wanted me to enroll in a music school but I insisted that I wanted to learn on my own so he bought me a handbook with chords and tabs in it.


So my journey in music began. At first, all I know was that I wanted to learn because of passion. The next thing I know, my fingers became tender and red and its tenderness and redness were painful. Then tiny bruises and wounds suddenly appeared because of the strings of my guitar., I then thought of quitting... but I was never raised up to quit, so in spite the pain, I endured it. I continued learning and practicing each chords. By then, the bruises and wounds on my fingers became hard – calloused. By then, the pain was no longer there because my fingers had grown calloused and thus it became numb. So finally I learned to play guitar and to put chords on my own lyrics and thus a new song – a piece of my own art, my own skill given to me by God.


Life is actually like that. At first, we all wanted to live our own lives, but as we go along, we will realize that it is actually hard and sometimes we wanted to quit learning life's lessons as well. But as we move on, like my calloused fingers, we became hard and thus, stronger to life's challenges and numb to life's pain. And after all the hardships, finally, we see our life as a recital, and we know, it worth it.


But just like any other show, the recital will eventually come to an end and that is an impeccable truth. The audience will bid their final applause, the crowd will get thin and the music will become just like a smoke mingled into the thin air until it reaches the clouds. Your prestige will become just a sweet memory turning sour as you nostalgically enter into the state of deep musing. And in a black and white scene of that flickering moment of your life, you will feel that sense called “PRESTIGE”.


Life is indeed as fragile as the strings of a guitar, you strum it hard then it will break. Sometimes we abuse our lives the way we strum the strings of our guitars because we thought that things could actually happen to others but NOT to us, but the truth is, our strings are just as fragile as the strings of others, because to that “OTHERS” we are the “OTHERS” too. Sometimes, we thought sickness could afflict others but us and neither those people inside the circle of our show, so we get surprised when the things we once thought were so intangible are now in our hands and we are not just holding it, we are grasping it tightly.


But the show, as they say, must go on. Whether it will be a tragedy or a comedy, an applause or a boo.


A recital is when we finally realized what we have learned.


(Dedicated In Memory Of An Acquaintance)

“Its gonna hurt, but I love the pain, I'm bleeding for it.”