religion

Clown Church

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Where do naughty clowns go when they’ve sinned, and need to pray?

Can’t go to a regular church, that’a be heresy!

Instead, they go to Clown Church.

Clown church, clown church, clown church!

Where the clowns dress in colorful polka dots. They arrive on the dot on a dime, and come in to hear the clown

church bells chime.

They take up the pew; rainbow colored, like God’s promise.

And hear the message, from Pastor Deep-Nose.

Laying hands over clown souls.

Speaking in verses that clowns can relate; their sins they erase.

Then back out into the cold world again; 5th times the charm.

Cheers to hoping that these bouncing clowns, learned to shed their dastardly absurdist ways.

Learned to seek rainbow redemption.

And learned to pray.

The Sniper at the Gates of Heaven

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Shooting down young men dead. Falling down into hell.
Close but no cigar warfare is collateral damage.
God weeps, seeing His children taken down.
By the enemy seeker.
Close enough to see Elysium’s rays…but too sinful to ever rise–
Sniper incarnate–
On patrol;
time immemorial

God’s Eyes Staring through the Clouds (based on the dream I had (october 13, 2025)

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The only thing mankind has, and will ever listen to, are your eyes.

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I see God, disguised as a cloud. Staring with diamond glowing eyes, shining in splutters, the same way a star’s twinkle does, only blinding.

The forms in his face are angular, and yet rounded; in it, I see my Father.

The cloud was also a storm cloud. Massive, but I could still see the blue sky.

I feel God’s wrath closing in; angry with the world.

A storm is on its way, coming for God’s enemies.

The ones who are atheist; nonbelievers; the enemy that must be destroyed.

And the evil; the wicked, the ones who usher in darkness.

The looming towering storm cloud of God; his face morphed peering over us at the top of the cloud, with strands of white clouds for His hair.

Omnipotent; seeing all, even my own sins; and judging all things.

Displeased with Earth’s sinners, unwilling to submit.

Darkness was at the base of the cloud; a distraught storm.

Motionless, and motionlessly watching mankind, with only the twinkling eyes making movement.

I am unsure if the cloud had already formed, or is forming.

Towering over the neighborhood.

What is, what is, what is to come?

God’s Wrath Closing in

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With an unending spear of righteousness, the sky sets loose its lightning.

White, and blinding; from every angle–a white orb like a platinum sun reveals.

In a flash quicker than a second, my mind has seen The Great Seer.

It’s like a blinding light, that doesn’t burn your eyes; and is both warm and cool against the corneas.

A light from another realm; a sentient sun—a sun with a mind of its own.

With no imperfections, like a flashlight, but more ancient, like an Old Eye.

Seeing all; there is no escape.

As the mind echoes across the galaxies above; the soul over the roads below.

There is no where I can escape from; the toll bells from this glow that is shone.

As I wander the waters; my legs feel the cool Waters of Waters; I fear the light, and feel the light—it is the Light of all Lights. One light to rule them all, unable to differentiate, between what light guides, and which calls.

My eyes look forward and see the beyond.

The hour all around me is dark; as worse as its ever been.

The sky is disturbed in an upset; the ground is riddled with earthquakes.

Spears from every tribe has fallen; and the ground shakes.

Like LA, the waters have flushed it all away.

It’s denizens lost; scattered to the fog.

Cold is the soul that is numb to the touch.

Faceless mannequins, go up in flames, unable to escape the pain.

As I stare in wonder.

The sky is not a sky, but an absence of one; a void, forever torn asunder.

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The clouds always rain; rain is constant. People are desolate, they are lost in the fog.

War and tension is growing, the mind is smoldering; the mind, mind; burning mind.

Unabashed by it’s thinking.

Firecrackers go off, but God is angry; as mankind parties, world wars are forming.

There was no party today.

Earthquakes are happening more frequently in secession;

floods are slowly consuming the ground. And tension is forging.

And like a blacksmith of fate, the black clouds are being hit with a hammer, and frantic sparks are all around.

Alls that’s left is the sound.

The Holy Bottle of Wine

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Gone is the savior, unwilling to remain.
For the moment, and down the hatch, is ye–going down the drain.
A founder of retribution and peace, come to make me drunk with a passion.
My soul turns to cotton candy, by way of a bitter taste.
Filling the body with poison and wonder, I contort in the face, and like a push-pull puppet my body limps loose.
And me wrapped up in a rapture, I am but put to waste.
And this taste; this paralyzer, is the taste to end all tastes.

The Hive Mind Complex

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A thousand wasps fly in, and continue where the 999th dead left off at.

So true story, years ago, we had this outbreak of giant wasps. They were big, yellow, and loved digging holes in the ground, and I guess laying eggs in there(?)

I think it’s called an Eastern Cicada Killer. If so, then that’s a pleasant surprise; they kill those annoying screechy bugs.

There were hundreds of them. They wouldn’t go away. Like big overgrown clumsy puppies.

There was a time that I walked out my front door, and one like a helicopter hovered in place, and slowly turned toward me, staring me down. I gulped, then slowly the thing turned back around in place.

It was a pretty funny thing to see.

Well one day, I saw one of them fly down, trying to dig a hole, so I got a pole, and tried to slowly pin it down and kill it. The thing yelled loudly and swung all around under the poll, and it was so big that I could hear the CRACK sound of it’s spine as I killed it.

Well it died, and I picked its body up and tossed it in a bag. When about 3 minutes later, another one of those big wasps flew down literally in the same spot, and began digging right where the other one started! Like wtf, amiright? Like they were both thinking the same thing! It was both funny, crazy, and frustrating. Eventually they stopped showing up after a full year of their mayhem, but that moment always struck a cord with me.

Sometimes this is exactly how people behave as well.

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You see the problem with a hive mind is not that one acts the same or does the same thing as the others, it’s the fact that somebody completely new, believes the same exact ideals of the last before them, without even seeing their face.

Like a man walking into the store wanting to rob it, and does so.

The man gets arrested and taken off to jail, but then a woman, completely new, not even knowing the store was robbed, feels the same exact way—she wants to rob it too.

Why would they do this?

Simple: Because they’re both broke; in ex.

Where a couple years ago they weren’t the type of people to rob a store.

Now a decade later and several heart aches, and poverties happen to them, now they’re thinking the same amount of violence.

A hive mind is when a man willingly brainwashes themselves.

Sometimes this doesn’t happen due to some ideation, or leadership. Sometimes obscure thinking can happen because of a change in circumstances.

Not all hive minds are bad or evil; the hive mind to want to use the toilet, and not pee on the sidewalk is a hive mind—everybody thinks this way.

And so this is an example of a simplistic hive mindset that is good.

Bad hive mindsets happen when a group no longer cares about the feelings of anybody around them, except their own.

It doesn’t matter how many people fight or stand up for something, if its wrong, then it’s only going to lead to everybody succeeding in failure.

Like hungry rats that want to eat a singular piece of cheese from off a mouse trap, not realizing that it’s a trap—-they all believe in something that is not only inherently bad, flawed, but it’s also hazardous to everybody around them.

For me, this can involve Marxism. Instead of somebody being atheist, they also believe that religion is dangerous, and try to burn down churches.

This is not only destructive toward the country (because that fire can spread and burn every single building next to it) but it’s also terrorism.

Terrorism is using ignorance as an excuse for violence.

There is a way for people who believe one thing to coexist with the other side, and part of being a grown up is being able to have the wisdom to decide which things those are…But when a collective group of people that become a circle-jerk, fail to use any critical thinking skills, and negate any feelings toward the other side, I see no difference between that and the novel 1984, and its oppressive regime.

To me, this form of hipster thinking leads to fascism, totalitarianism, and many other negative forms of leadership.

Right is right. Wrong is wrong. There is no in-between that can change that, no matter how massive the majority or minority is, or exclusive the circle-jerk operates.

~Shower-thoughts from your favorite uncle, Gregory Thomas

I’m Seeing No Love from God

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I’m seeing no love from God, as I struggle on the floor.

The concrete floor, in a concrete house, in the concrete suburbs.

What good are beautiful trees across the Earth, that I will hang from?

What good is the glistening blue sea, that I will drown in?

Food in the belly prolonging death’s sweet release.

Water for my wet-organs, against my will.

And being gaslighted by my blind Christian-friend shills.

A hand from the heavens comes to hold the hand of the man, that is already severed.

The endless joblessness; I am rejected by everyone—and rotting along.

And yet the sun shines down upon me; it is in vain.

What good is the Word, when they operate as just words?

When I enter the church, I leave feeling the same way I came.

Plastic faces, taking tithes and offerings.

Clapping, singing, dancing like wolves, in the midst of my suffering.

How cruel it is, to expect the wounded to behave like the whole.

I can’t clap and dance and sing, with severed arms and legs.

And legs and arms that accomplish nothing no matter how hard I try, are too numb to reach out to God.

To die would be to be put out of my misery; for what is life?

The earth is a resistless hellhole—worthless.

The women are all vain Jezebels, and the men are useless serpents.

My art rots with the dust, and my writing has been forgotten.

And God; a faceless light—deadpan in His gaze. Mute and deaf, and hovering.

My body swings, drunk and worthless, clinging to His apron strings.

Too afraid to go to hell and suffer; and yet suffers here on Earth.

Alone, and desperately praying.

Praying for Him to open His eyes.

Thoughts on the main issue with Conservative Christians

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As a democrat, and a Christian, the main problem with conservative Christians that I see today, is that they simply don’t love anybody.

You can tell their hatred by how they’re constantly online complaining, spreading hate, ridiculing, and accusing everybody of being a failure or a problem, that doesn’t meet with their ideations.

They say they believe in God, have accepted Jesus as their savior (quote on quote) but when it comes to God’s people, they show no mercy. Many are sexist neo nazis, many actually do not worship God, but instead worship Trump as a god. You can’t serve two gods; which is it? Do you worship Jesus, or a man-made idol?

In other words, they refuse to put on the New Man God has called them to be, and instead cling desperately to old ideals.

With that being said, even though I don’t agree with same sex marriage or relations, I’m not looking to nail a gay man’s hands and feet to the cross just because of their sexual endeavors, when we have human trafficking, rape, war, genocide, and many other issues going on in this world that commands our attention. Instead, they want to act like a bull in a China shop over trivial issues, like teens masturbating, or a woman getting an abortion, or a man wearing a dress.

I say trivial, because I’ve seen way worser evils people have done than these things that have been around since before Capitol Hill was even thought of.

You can’t call yourself a Christian, if you hate everybody around you, or pick and choose whose worthy of being loved—that’s no different than satan, who started out as lucifer, judging and attacking God and His plan for mankind.

It’s either you love your neighbor, or you’re filled with hate, there is no in-between, and there is no impressing God, or getting Him to stop your suffering, if you refuse to follow his peaceful teaching.

This is why they have a massive amount of enemies, can’t make a breakthrough anywhere with society—no matter who they elect, and keep running into the same ridicule worldwide.

Pride goes before the fall.

Well, as for me, I don’t worship Trump. Nor do I support him, or ever will.

I worship Jesus. That’s who I worship. That’s who I’ll always worship. There comes a time where you have to put the world behind, and not get wrapped up by its ideals and what’s occurring in the news. And that’s what I intend to do.

~Sincerely, Uncle Greg

As We Were Once Wandering Souls

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When we die, there is nowhere to go.

We float in air, alone, lost and wandering; a wanderer, unsure of our own wandering.

Where the evil and godless are snatched up into fire; for there is no other fire.

Or the God fearing and loyal enter Elysium; for there is no other light.

We are surrounded mindlessly and relentlessly by the void of nothingness; floating in a lair that is not our own.

Like darkness in the skull—it at least has a home.

But nowheresville in darkness, is nowhere in limbo regardless.

We are bodyless, and roam beyond our control, longing for a purpose.

Just like we are all in life; aimless longing.

But the light will only shine on those who wander toward it; knowing it is the light.

A moth going toward the fire will burn up; so will we all falling farther from our heavenly Father.

Elysium is a gate with a password; and Jesus is the name.

Without it, we are lost; ungathered, and inevitably slain.

Like wheat for fire, we are all tossed in.

Unchained to sanctuary, and fodder in the wind, surrounded by the ever darkness in vain.

It is why we seek sanctuary; a home after we die.

We cannot bring the backpacks into the afterlife; nor can we bring our strife.

We cannot earn God’s trust through darkness.

We can only do so through life.

Earth is a Dream within a dream

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The Catholics believe that if a man dies and isn’t ready for heaven or hell, he is put in Limbo until he is ready for a destination.

But I say that Earth itself is that Limbo.

You see if you analyze it, we are already not good enough for heaven, and not evil enough for hell, so we are stuck here until death. They choices we made here on Earth will determine where we go. The only way to get to heaven is to know Jesus, and declare Him as your personal savior. However, we cannot weasel our way into heaven, and live a life of wickedness (Hitler is not in heaven).

Heaven is like a house that needs a key to enter. Jesus is the key.

You can talk in front of your house for 15 hours, talking about all kinds of different ideologies, different religions, giving debates, listing all sorts of philosophies and texts. And you may list some very good points.

But it doesn’t matter. You’re not getting into heaven, unless you have the key.

Like a password: The password is Jesus. If you know it, then you’re able to enter through heaven’s gates. If you don’t know it, then you can never enter.

What happens when a person smashed out the window of somebody’s house and tries to break inside? The cops get called, and they send the squatter out. He or she never gets to stay.

Whether it’s fair or not, that’s how it works. You’re only allowed inside the house you the key for, and without Jesus as your savior, you don’t have the key. And anybody standing outside of heaven without the key, goes to hell.

We need to stay true to God’s word, the best we are able.

Some people die young, some people die old. A man can live 80 years, have a beautiful wife and kids—-over 10 kids, a beautiful house with a nice car and family…But when he dies, he can’t take any of those things with him.

You know, this reminds me of my dreams.

I’ve had dreams where I went to sleep, and would have a beautiful girlfriend. I even had one dream where I had a girlfriend, who was beautiful, that I had a son by. I was very happy in that dream.

But when I woke up, I had to leave those things behind. That world was only temporary.

It’s the same for this world.

Earth is a dream, within a dream.

All my art, all my writing, everything that I have done, my friends, family, clothes, nice watches, and all these things that I built up, as soon as I die, I can’t take those with me into the afterlife.

For me at least, these were painful dreams, because my waking life is very lonely and unfullfilled.

These type of dreams always feel real, like they transcend reality themselves. But when I wake up, all those nice things are gone.

Sometimes, I dream nightmares that I swear are real, but am relived upon waking up to know that they were not.

I believe that the Earth is like this. It feels real, we can swear it’s real, but after we die, there’s something out there that is pulling us toward it, into judgement. A reality realer than what is present.

In other words, we are spiritual beings living in a materialistic existence.

I assume the afterlife feels realer than reality itself; colors more colorful, and my consciousness more conscious than what it is now.

And the funny thing is, is that many people believe that we are living in a simulation.

And if all of God’s Word is true, then that is exactly what this is; just not in the complete sense that people mean.

Earth is that simulation, and when we die, we leave this world (Or in other words, leave the Matrix) and enter the afterlife, where God judges us.

Very fascinating stuff, when I put this all into perspective.

I know all of what I said might sound like I’m some religious nutjob from Heaven’s Gate or something. XD

But really, I have been pondering my existence and where I fit in this world lately, and these things interest me.

Any hoo, I guess people can take with that what they will. Happy Trails!

~Sincerely, Your Favorite Uncle, Gregory Thomas