- Jan 31, 2011
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Its been a good day, I played the S and M concert by Metallical pretty much all day, and at full volume, I have never read the lyrics to Master of Puppets before, they made enlightening reading, brought back a lot of memories, and pointed out a few areas in which I am capable of sliding back.
The truth is, its easier to be Sikh...
As someone who has dabbled with most facets of life, I know what it feels like to be owned, to be a slave, if arrogance and pride are huge obstacles in the path to enlightenment, you would think the opposite path would be full of it, but you would be wrong. Following the opposite path, strips you of all self respect, you become needy, nervous, and yet, the end result is the same, the hit of a cocaine rock is to an addict, what enlightenment and connection is to a Sikh, the title of the song is apt, the thief becomes the master, it owns you, it tells you what to do, how to dress, what to spend your money on, it promises you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams, but the pleasure remains constant, and your expectations continue to grow, so you do more, and more and more, you chase the dragon, strange is it not, that if such devotion, such commitment were present in pursuing the true Master, what a difference a life would be. Where is the true Master, how do we find him, simple, its the truth, its that simple.
I would wager that if one were to put in 60% of the effort one puts in worshipping the thieves, into living by the truth, you would see a remarkable change in most peoples lives. How could it not be, anyone who has pledged so much to the dark ones, they know, deep in their hearts, they know, it is the pathway to death, and not just any death, a cold death, a bad death, the sort of death that has a thousand unfinished jobs, a torturous death, you die, in the knowledge that all you did was worship a monster, that is the sum total of your life, you were a monster worshipper.
You could have been a Sikh, but its too late now, the icy hands of death are around your throat, and the hell you fear so much, are the last few moments of your life, and then it hits you, and that moment suspends you forever, I had a choice, I could have been a Sikh, I wasted it, I was a nobody, sure a nobody with many sexual conquests, with a huge house, with cars, with people around in fear, but at the end of the day, a nobody,
When they used to illustrate hell as a devil with a pointed fork, they really had no idea about the nature of the human brain to torture itself, when regret, guilt and shame come to town.
The truth is, its easier to be Sikh...
As someone who has dabbled with most facets of life, I know what it feels like to be owned, to be a slave, if arrogance and pride are huge obstacles in the path to enlightenment, you would think the opposite path would be full of it, but you would be wrong. Following the opposite path, strips you of all self respect, you become needy, nervous, and yet, the end result is the same, the hit of a cocaine rock is to an addict, what enlightenment and connection is to a Sikh, the title of the song is apt, the thief becomes the master, it owns you, it tells you what to do, how to dress, what to spend your money on, it promises you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams, but the pleasure remains constant, and your expectations continue to grow, so you do more, and more and more, you chase the dragon, strange is it not, that if such devotion, such commitment were present in pursuing the true Master, what a difference a life would be. Where is the true Master, how do we find him, simple, its the truth, its that simple.
I would wager that if one were to put in 60% of the effort one puts in worshipping the thieves, into living by the truth, you would see a remarkable change in most peoples lives. How could it not be, anyone who has pledged so much to the dark ones, they know, deep in their hearts, they know, it is the pathway to death, and not just any death, a cold death, a bad death, the sort of death that has a thousand unfinished jobs, a torturous death, you die, in the knowledge that all you did was worship a monster, that is the sum total of your life, you were a monster worshipper.
You could have been a Sikh, but its too late now, the icy hands of death are around your throat, and the hell you fear so much, are the last few moments of your life, and then it hits you, and that moment suspends you forever, I had a choice, I could have been a Sikh, I wasted it, I was a nobody, sure a nobody with many sexual conquests, with a huge house, with cars, with people around in fear, but at the end of the day, a nobody,
When they used to illustrate hell as a devil with a pointed fork, they really had no idea about the nature of the human brain to torture itself, when regret, guilt and shame come to town.
