I would like to take a beautiful photo for you
with 20 million pixels
with gold and luxury
in high gloss
I have nothing to offer
in this artificial instagram world
with its fancy clothes and beautiful girls
I’m supersaturated by this pile of invented settings
and rich life of high society
I nearly throw up
I only can tell you about an ordinary unmarried couple
in rags and with wound feet
walking the long road
they have nothing but each other and
we are in God’s hands
our lives are rich in him
struggling people who go on to survive
but the girl carries a king under her heart
the one who will unveil society and its synthetic life
the great devaluation
because he is
I know, how it is to have money, to drive a Mercedes and being boss of a company. Everybody greets you friendly and people make a bow. I know how it is to have no money: the bank puts thumbscrews on you, and you are only a maggot, but without bacon. If you then again come by some money, you are the made man, customer king.
Who is so naive to trust these rabble of bow-makers and hold-the-door-openers, doesn’t have to wonder if his / her heart turns up and down like the weather. He judges himself like the others see him. And here you can find the whole evil what makes you to a puppet of your fellow human being. You are to blame, if you hate yourself, because you still haven’t broken with the mob to whom it’s just about money, beauty and success.
Man I tell you, as long as you run after this you aren’t free but a servant of many. You are an everyman who goes for broke running after the zeitgeist and who misses out, because you can’t reach your own high standards. You are no Goethe, Shakespeare, no Nowitzki or Madonna. And all that is not tragic. You are not you, and that is a tragedy. To look your whole life at others and don’t feel yourself. What a waste. At the end you were not even yourself.
I don’t want to be rich
I don’t want to be famous
I don’t want to be well-dressed
I don’t want to have power
I don’t want to live long
so why do I worry
the body is my visible form
in the time
of my eternal invisible identity
As they went on their way, he entered into a certain village, and a certain woman named Martha received him into her house. She had a sister called Mary, who also sat at Jesus’ feet, and heard his word. But Martha was distracted with much serving, and she came up to him, and said, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister left me to serve alone? Ask her therefore to help me.”
Jesus answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is needed. Mary has chosen the good part, which will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:38-42)
The hardest thing in life is to do nothing. To hear inside. To listen what’s next. Church and society have been burdening us with a lot of loads. In the old days with religious laws “You have to be this or that way to be alright. God only accepts you, if…”, these days with other words of society but the same meaning “You have to wear this brand of clothes, to use this mobile or to drive this car to be cool. If you don’t travel around the whole world you are boring. If you don’t look like Gisele Bündchen, Naomi Campbell, Cindy Crawford or Kate Moss, you aren’t beautiful.
Nowadays we understand individuality and self-realization as the “freedom” of choosing between different outfits. But our real inner identity isn’t touched at all by the things we possess and which outfits we wear. Vice versa. Too often we are possessed by the stuff we have, too often we are possessed by our ideas of status, success and luxury. What makes us worthwhile, what gives us value, what makes us precious and lovable are not the things we are possessing outside. Is not a special behavior to fit in society and are not even special character traits too.
I live in an urban settlement where especially poor people live. Most of them hardly have enough money to scratch along. When they allow you a closer look behind their facade and they start telling you their stories, you would be astonished how precious and lovable they are besides their shabby clothes.
Don’t worry how you can please me. Don’t make any effort that I accept you. I know your true self. Come with me. My yoke is easy and my burden is light.