The Burning of Notre Dame

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My heart bleeds in the flames of Notre Dame. 

We look to the spire, the hand reaching for the heavens, as a symbol of ancient protection. These architecturally beautiful monuments of historical whispers are reminders that there is something divine in this world. They’re a symbol of the bridge between man and the spiritual protector. The burning, crumbling stone evokes emotions akin to a grieving child at the funeral of a fallen parent.  

The bells are ringing in your ears. The bells that sounded so often through the city streets. A vibration that would paint the city in light, if only for a fleeting moment each day. Bells that would say, ‘Remember the true nature of your existence. I’m your protector, your saviour.’

Perhaps the tears are a realisation that the divine protection, that the connection to the spiritual realm, has been been destroyed. Perhaps the men fighting the blaze, frantically trying to save the ruin, are a symbol of our half hearted repentance. Like a man overcompensating when his wife has decided to leave him. He begs and pleads silently as he cleans the house and takes her out for a coffee mid week. But, she’s already destroyed. He can no longer salvage this wreckage. 

I grieve for the loss of such a beautiful cathedral.

Yet, the church isn’t a hand reaching for the heavens as a symbol of ancient protection. It’s a hand reaching down. Despite the fire, the chaos, the despair, this divine connection will be mirrored in the hearts of believers who recognise true, ancient love.

In the end, everything will burn. So what do we do until that day? 

Instagram and Self Sabotage

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Yesterday I was in a doctors waiting room and the mother next to me started to breastfeed her little girl.

I almost vomited.

What an unattractive, disgusting bimbo she was.

Oh, I’m sorry. Let me explain. As the absolutely gorgeous child was drinking her mother’s milk, the mother was scrolling instagram. Now, this in itself wasn’t bad until I noticed that every single photo was of a photoshopped model. Their perfectly shaped curves reflected off the child’s eyes as she drank.

I understand why men follow hot girls on instagram, but why do women? Men are visual creatures. Men are weak. The moral compass of the average man is based on what is socially acceptable. All men do it, but what makes it even easier for men to follow insta-porn is that women do it too.

Why do women follow sexy fitness models?

The instagram feed we hold in our hand is a manifestation of our desire as well as the confirmation of our own belief. Now, what does that mean?

We believe we aren’t good enough, so we follow someone who we believe is better than us. Our belief of inadequacy subconsciously tells us to follow what we want to become. We believe we aren’t good enough, so we choose every spare minute we have reminding ourselves that we aren’t good enough.

Isn’t this… Messed up?

Or, maybe you think it’s healthy to constantly bombard your senses with the most beautiful people in the world showing off the best luxuries in the world while you wonder why it’s so hard to leave the house without putting on make up? Maybe you think it’s a wise to replicate the attitude of people who’s success is based on nothing more than being born beautiful or being able to be in the position to train their body for 12 hours a day?

Take your power back.

Follow pages of art, nature, love, kindness, charity, music, education, culture, poetry! Saturate your retinas with stunning images of everything beautiful in this world. Beauty isn’t perfectly drawn eyebrows and life isn’t about taking photos in exotic locations.

As a man, the most unattractive thing a girl can do on social media is to ‘like’ photos of hot women they don’t know.

Unfollow all the shallow creatures of this earth. Set an example for the little girls out there who’s childhood are cut short be the desire to fit in in the new world of public perception.

And if you don’t unfollow the foolishness, that’s fine too. But, you can never again complain about how there is unfair pressure on women to look pretty. You are putting that unfair pressure on yourself. Every day.

Maybe this rant is ignorance, or maybe I’m just tired of people choosing to feed their mind with unattainable desires that serve no purpose to their long term happiness.

Who do you follow?

PS: No, the story about the breastfeeding isn’t true, but you get the point.

Written by Randall Evans
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Thanks for reading The Vile Mint. If I was able to spark your imagination, make you think or open your mind to new perspectives, please leave me a comment. I love hearing from readers and building relationships. God Bless.

Tinder & the Death of Romance

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We live in an age of superficial sexual pleasures. An age where we confuse consequence with cause. Instead of attraction being an organic combination, selection of a partner is now determined by one thing. Looks. The swirling pool of flesh bombards the retinas without any imagination required.

Dating is a violent sport. Instead of being an exciting adventure in a particular stage of life, it’s become a layer of irritating vexations, test driving multiple vehicles at once with no intention of a purchase. It’s normal to see multiple people at once, all at various stages of the initial dating phase, which is typically somewhere near, or past, home base.

Where do we go in this confusion? It’s no longer a matter of finding a diamond in the rough, because the true authentic romantics don’t play by the new rule book. They open doors for one person, buy roses for one person, experience anxiety over one person and dance with one person. And if it doesn’t work out, they cry over one person.

How can anybody feel loss with so many replacement parts on the market? They can’t feel loss, they only feel lost over time. Time after time, date after date, they wonder why they feel so down. It’s not meant to be like this.

It’s not normal to play the field.

It’s not normal to base your attraction on what a potential partner looks like in a photo.

It’s not normal to use romance as a tool rather than expression.

Actually, all these things are normal… But it’s not right.

The world is filling up with the tears of those who feel alone. They have been stripped of their worth as what love once was has been replicated and twisted into technique and fabrication. When lust reigns supreme, will we remember what love felt like? Where has she gone? Love is shivering in the cold corner of the woods.

Lead her into the light. Be gentle and fearful of such beauty.

Love is patient… Love is kind.

Are you?

 

Written by Randall Evans

This is The Vile Mint.