trail [Theme] Page 3

Let them be forgotten inside!

In the hearts of cuts, my, light will be shed !!!

The greatness of transience is the highest embodiment of mortal beauty. Are we mortals not like a flash of lightning? Like a sweet dream or an instant flowering of sparks, we will leave a colorful trail in the eternal night sky.

And I understand that I myself am to blame.

In the arsenal of theology, I was looking for a weapon for holy war; I was looking for means by which the Gospel idea of ​​salvation could triumph in the souls of those who had lost their strength and succumbed to temptation - and would return the lost, broken, sick to the right path ... Neither historical, nor systematic, nor practical theology, taken separately, did not correspond this much needed requirement. In all ages, the Church was to be illuminated with the spirit of Christian love; she was called to give people this love and make them instruments of divine love - but in fact, in her history, the trace of such efforts is almost negligible, despite the examples of many whom love has transformed, and many who dedicated their lives to deeds in her name. Endless disputes about dogmas - cruel, fanatical, filled with hatred, and the more powerful, the more petty, insignificant and further from the understanding of love was their subject; disputes about the forms of worship, which were given magical power; fear, striking to the shiver of any believer, when he understood that his own conscience tells him to depart from the church charter - and thereby deprive his soul of salvation; a fierce hatred of heretics, who, knowing the Bible and faith, willy-nilly rejected old beliefs and adherence to church dogma, even if they attributed such deviations to satanic tricks; questions of power, money and law, resolved in spite of the gospel - all of this, as I found out, was much more concerned than the task of translating divine and human love into life. In an effort to prove that they better understood and embodied the religion of love, some Christians smashed the heads of other Christians who also served Jesus and wanted to be His disciples; often entire nations were involved. People killed, robbed, raged more mercilessly than beasts of prey - in the name of the One who died on the cross out of love and by death bore witness to the message of love brought by Him. Of course, there are many testimonies of sincere love and true piety in church history. And yet, if the criterion announced by Jesus in the Gospel of John becomes the yardstick, it will be that according to which disciples are recognized by mutual love, and not by subtle differences in dogmas; if it becomes His main commandment about man's love for God, his neighbor and himself; if they are the words of the Apostle Paul, who put love above faith and hope (1 Cor. 13:13), then the history of the Christian religion is more like a monstrous misunderstanding or an abnormal deviation from true Christianity. Dogmatic theology and its history, with their ruthless adherence to irrational dogmas that have nothing to do with love, seemed to me to be a roundabout maneuver undertaken with one goal: to bypass the main point of Jesus' preaching and demands. I saw how the Gospel and the doctrines of the Church horrified people, for any doubt about them threatened to be burned at the stake and in hellish flames; I compared it to the careless contempt with which the love of Christ was trampled upon; and I considered it as straining a mosquito and swallowing a camel.

“They are preparing for death. Those who live down there think that the far off will soon be here. He sighed, and only now, from his face, Zola guessed how tired he really was. Perhaps, deep down, the Doctor agreed with the common Gallifreans. “Therefore, they write down their thoughts and memories on these flashlights,” the Doctor continued, “and then send them on a journey through time and space. It is a gesture of despair. They are afraid they will die and be forgotten. They send memories to the farthest corners of the universe so that at least some trace remains after their death.

During his early youth, he only carried weapons. probably, this left an indelible mark on his character, somehow especially determined his personality: trust only yourself and your hand. By isolating himself from the environment, he found himself. yes, that's right - filling your space with things, you become a part of them; deciding to know yourself, you exclude outside influences. And knowing yourself, you will be able to know others. We did it.

If you are not satisfied with the present, then try to step not in your footsteps.

Any beginning comes to an end,
But each end is only the beginning,
Any actions have their mark,
But every act interferes with someone.

In the meantime - just step on the trail.

by Vladimir Shebzukhov
The dried tree stood silently.
No one cuts, no one bothered.
During his lifetime, he gave a lot.
The time has come for the peace of the frozen.
Once saw a thief this tree at night.
No police silhouette there.
The tree was still standing silently.
The thief was frightened, his trail was cold.
The lover walked all in dreams of his beloved.
Seeing in the twilight, he said, "She!"
I didn't wait, he thought shamefully.
I accelerated my step, because I was standing... "one"...
More than once the tree smiled so much to passers-by.
But the sadness of the dried up was still there.
With his care, past the tree, too.
In the evening, the mother with the child went.
The kid has already listened to terrible fairy tales.
The ghost was able to appear nearby.
Mom saw her eyes crying.
I was in a hurry to calm the baby...
But the tree stands, gaining patience.
We would only have time to understand in time,
That the world around us is a reflection of ourselves.
Perhaps there is nothing more to say here...

- Traces of my tears. Time travel is damage. Like a tear in the fabric of reality. This is a scar from my journey through the universe. My path through space and time. From Gallifrey to Trenzalor My own time tunnel. All the days, even those that I haven’t lived yet.

Most often, the appearance of ghosts is associated with violent death. The anger and rage of a living being at the time of murder give rise to a strong energy trace, which then becomes the very shadow, the ghost.

In order to understand what communism is, it is necessary to get to know this person better, to penetrate into his inner world, only in this way can one find an explanation of how this theory with its inherent dogmas was born in the depths of his mind. Without him there would have been no Russian revolution. He called himself a Marxist, but in reality he reshaped and altered Marx as he pleased to achieve his own goal. There was more of a medieval ruler in him than of Marx.