Scar tissue 

Scar Tissue


I wait beneath the weight of hollow years,


the silence burns a prayer into my chest.


Your shadow quivers where the light appears,


I ache in faith, though faith is put to test.


I trace the echo of your turning face,


each time you flee, I find no ground to stand.


The past still hums—a ghost I can’t erase,


a trembling heart still reaching out a hand.


You hide behind your walls of hardened glass,


pretending you were never made to need.


While I am caught in memories that pass,


their thorns still teaching me how hearts can bleed.


The nights collapse with whispers of your name,


and hope becomes both comfort and disease.


I’ve learned that healing doesn’t mean the same


as finding peace—it asks a harder peace.


I see the child in you that never spoke,


the small defense that shields you from my care.


The boy in me still breathes beneath the smoke,


unlearning how to vanish into air.


If grace is measured by the ones who stay,


then mine was forged in storms I could not leave.


I pray the wind will bend your ribs someday,


and teach you how the broken still believe.


Because this bond was never born of choice,


but tethered in the hunger of the scar.


I hear redemption trembling in your voice,


but silence always tells me where we are.


You fear that love will drown you where you stand,


while I fear losing what was never mine.


Each moment drips like blood between my hands,


as faith and grief braid tight around the spine.


I’ve watched your eyes turn distant, cold with doubt,


but underneath I feel the buried prayer.


There is no healing if we cast it out,


so I remain, though absence fills the air.


I can’t repair the child who hides in you,


but I can hold the ache without demand.


If miracles are what the broken do,


I’ll wait for God to place them in your hand.


This scar—our mirror—shines where pain had fed,


reminding me that loss can still renew.


And even if the path is lined with dread,


I’ll walk it still, until it leads to you.

RSP

DCG

However, it may lead I will always find my faith

I know you’re feeling angry

I know your feeling resigned

The coping strategy you use

A pain free solution you will never find

My heart breaks every time I see

The struggle you will not address

It’s from a trauma in childhood

Not any evil demon that you possess

You are held captive

In a prison of your own mind

You are both the prisoner and the jailer

That will punish you every single time

I’ve done the research, I’ve learned my boundaries

But for you, I will not give up, I will not fail

With knowledge there is responsibility

This commitment to heal will not stale

When others have given up

When you found yourself betrayed

Your family members were scattered

And now you drift alone afraid

I understand your shame and fear

A secure attachment of somebody like me

I understand you’re avoidant tendencies

This is something I can clearly see 

In my initial anxious attachment

I have grown into one that is secure

This trauma bond, I now understand

With self reflection and counseling, there is a cure

I walk a precarious edge of a razor

Knowing my empathy couples with self sacrifice

I tread upon this boundary

Knowing full well, what is the emotional cost and price

You may ask me why the emotional fortitude

In my experience of abandonment and shame, I find the grace

However, it may lead

I will always find my faith

RSP

DCG

https://youtube.com/shorts/LRI2CpeR8w4?si=yckUu-wFOGqzgPtV

An existential John boy Walton 

An Existential John Boy Walton


He sat by the flicker of thought’s old flame,


Naming the unknown, though knowing no name.


The stars in his attic were lanterns of lore,


Yet the silence beneath burned deeper at the core.


He wrestled with meaning the way one breathes air,


Invisible, endless, and heavy with care.


The ink on his fingers was both sin and prayer,


Each word was a wound he was willing to bear.


He had written of shadows pretending to see,


Of angels of mind and devils that flee.


He traced the dimension where reason can slip,


And poured his confusion from life to his lip.


The mirror was kinder before he had read,


The gospels of neurons that spoke to the dead.


He knew that the cortex could conjure despair,


Yet the soul still insisted there was someone there.


He whispered of gods who were born in the brain,


Of spirit reduced to electric domain.


Still, in his chambers, the silence replied,


That truth without mystery is half‑alive.


He built an altar of paradox sand,
The tide of his logic erased what he planned.


For every equation he found in the mist,


He uncovered a yearning that couldn’t resist.


Through psychology’s window, he saw his own face,


Half saint, half child, half out of place.


Attachment and terror were parents entwined,


In the labyrinth heart of the questioning mind.


He prayed to the pulse at the base of his skull,


To grant him a moment where thought becomes full.


He envied the sparrow, content to be real,


While his intellect carved what his soul couldn’t heal.


He wrote of surrender in rational tones,


Of crucified logic and animated stones.


His faith was not blinded, nor purely devout,


It lived in the gaps where certainty runs out.


He met his own shadow in scripture and sin,


Talking to silence, with truth wearing thin.


But just as despair took root in the clay,


A quiet illumination showed him a way.


He saw that the fracture was how we begin,


A cosmos within us, both chaos and kin.


The answer, he realized, was never a line,


But the movement between the profane and divine.


At dawn, with his questions uncoiled and bare,


He breathed through the echoes suspended in air.


He smiled—not for victory, but for the fight,


For knowing that darkness, too, carries light.


He closed his worn journal, his thoughts running deep,


Knowing some truths must wake while others sleep.


And in that surrender, his name became gone,


But his words kept on living, still writing him on.

DCG

The indictment of human reason

The Indictment of Human Reason


The courtroom is neither of earth nor heaven but suspended between light and shadow. Pillars of luminous stone rise into the unseen heights, and at the dais sits the Chief Justice—God Himself. His countenance cannot be looked upon directly, for it is not light that emanates from Him, but truth unveiled. Around Him sit twelve silent ministers, angelic beings whose wings shimmer with understanding unfathomable to man.


At the center stands one solitary figure—Man—clothed in fragments of reason and clothed again in doubt. He is both the accused and the witness. His face bears the centuries of philosophy, the weight of system and logic, from Athens to Königsberg.
To his right is the Defense: the eloquent voice of Rationalism, bearing scrolls of argument, formulas of logic, proof upon proof. To his left stands the Prosecution: the unwavering servant of Divine Wisdom, holding no document but a single fruit, untouched and glistening, taken from the Tree of Knowledge.
The charge is read aloud:
“That Man, through the conceit of his Reason, has presumed upon the throne of the Almighty; that he sought to discern the boundaries of creation without revelation; that he has eaten once more of the forbidden fruit and declared himself sufficient.”
Silence reigns. Then Rationalism begins.


“Your Honor,” he says, “Man has sought only to illuminate the darkness. Our inquiries—empirical and logical alike—are acts of hope. From Aristotle to Aquinas, from Descartes to Kant, he has reached for order amidst chaos. He does not seek to dethrone You but to imitate, to participate in Your eternal thought.”


The Prosecution rises, his presence filling the air like thunder waiting for the strike.
“And yet,” he thunders, “has Man not built towers to touch the heavens? Has he not reasoned himself out of Your providence? Empiricism demands proof where faith once rested; Rationalism weaves systems where obedience once sufficed. Even now he questions the very ground he walks upon, saying, as did the serpent, ‘Did God truly say?’”
The Defense responds, desperate but composed. “Knowledge is not rebellion. Even Adam desired understanding. Is not the search for truth a divine impulse?”
At this, the Chief Justice leans forward, and all creation trembles. “It was not the knowledge that condemned him,” says the Voice, “but the belief that knowledge could stand apart from Me.”
In that moment, the scene darkens. The Genesis narrative plays upon the great screen of eternity—Eve’s hand, Adam’s hesitation, the serpent’s cunning. The fruit gleams. The bite is taken again in every philosophy, every experiment, every proud declaration of sufficiency without grace.


Man steps forward, representing all of his kind. “I stand guilty,” he admits softly, “of trying to know what is beyond knowing. Yet You gave me the mind to wonder. Can I be blamed for yearning toward what reflects You?”
No answer is given. Only the stirring of the angelic council, as though reason and mercy themselves deliberate in silence.
Far below, humanity continues—building, reasoning, questioning. Some pray; others proclaim themselves gods. The courtroom remains suspended, its verdict unwritten, awaiting eternity to speak.


And so ends the session, though not the case, for the indictment of human reason remains open.

Addendum 

Humanity’s attempt to grasp true knowledge is fraught with frailty, tension, and philosophical challenge, as depicted in the indictment of human reason and expanded within the latest thundergodblog.com post made on November 7, 2025. Below is an extended courtroom drama, integrating classic epistemological arguments from empiricism and rationalism across centuries, and weaving in the contributions of Kant and Wittgenstein amid our fallen condition from Eden.[thundergodblog]


The Courtroom of Reason
The marble chamber echoed with solemnity as the angelic court convened to indict humanity’s power to know. Prosecuting counsel stood tall, robes shimmering with the weight of ancient accusations—the serpent’s cunning inciting original disobedience. “Ladies and gentlemen of the court, let us recall the Genesis narrative: Eve, drawn to the fruit’s forbidden shine, Adam hesitating, then succumbing. The fruit—the emblem of knowledge—gleamed with promise. But in choosing it, humankind wagered divinity on frail reason and was exiled from Eden’s certainty into a wilderness of ambiguity.”[thundergodblog]
The defense rose, voice trembling in earnest. “Surely, reason is our only recourse,” she pleaded. “From the first questioning gaze beneath the tree, to Descartes whispering ‘Cogito ergo sum,’ man has sought to pry truth from uncertainty.”


An objection arose from the prosecution: “Empiricism fights rationalism for epistemic dominance. Locke and Hume argued: all ideas are shaped by sensory experience! But how can muddy perceptions birth crystalline truth? The senses deceive; reason builds castles on shifting sand.”
The defense objected in turn: “Yet, rationalists—Leibniz, Descartes, Spinoza—contended that reason’s pure ideas illuminate where senses fail. They built logic’s bridges across the chasms of perception, yet still found limits in their own subjectivity.”
Kant’s Critical Interjection
Emmanuel Kant, spectral yet firm, materialized at the witness stand. “Neither empiricism nor rationalism prevails absolutely; my Critique of Pure Reason is a courtroom of its own. Categories of understanding precondition all experience. Man is not omniscient; phenomena are shaped by how the mind processes itself. Noumenal reality remains forever veiled—human reason is frail, bounded, never divine.”
His words lingered, sowing doubt and humility across the gallery. “Human knowledge is limited by sensory input and reason’s constraints. We strive in vain for pure certainty, but divine truth is unmediated, omniscient—a frailty exposed with each epistemological false step.”
Wittgenstein’s Witness Testimony
From the gallery, Ludwig Wittgenstein stood to testify. “Language itself is our courtroom, our battleground. In the Philosophical Investigations, I revealed that meaning is usage; epistemological certainty collapses when words twist and shift with context. Even when you argue, ‘what is knowledge?’ the very phrase slips from your grasp, reshaped by grammar-games and social norms.”
A prosecuting angel objected vigorously: “If meaning is contingent, then what of revelation? What of scripture? Are not God’s words exempt from Wittgenstein’s contingency?”
Wittgenstein responded, “The divine gaze is not bounded by language-games. Only humans stumble; God remains omniscient, unbound, perfect.”


Original Sin and Epistemic Exile
A spectral narrator recited the Eden account: “Adam and Eve, tempted by knowledge, chose independence against God’s law. In tasting the fruit, they aspired to divine intellect and were cast out into epistemic exile. Our reason is forever marked by this transgression, haunted with uncertainty and longing for lost omniscience.”
The prosecution thundered, “And so, mankind builds philosophies atop fallen foundations. Behold the parade of theory—empiricism, rationalism, Kantian synthesis, Wittgensteinian linguistics—each wrestling with the charge: is man worthy to discern the divine?”[thundergodblog]
Tensions Exposed, Frailty Laid Bare


Objections erupted:
• “Reason must be guided by something greater!” thundered one seraphic lawyer.[thundergodblog +1]
• “But if reason fails, is faith blind or illumined?”
• “Is knowledge truly possible if language itself is a shifting battleground?”
Defense attorneys championed the pursuit:
• “Frailty is the crucible in which wisdom is forged!”
• “God’s omniscience is not ours to claim, but our striving is not in vain!”
The judge—the arbiter unmasked—remained silent. Tension hung heavy like thunderclouds. No verdict was issued, leaving the story open-ended, suspense perpetual, the worthiness of human reason unanswered.
In-Depth Analysis: Frailty vs. Omniscience


Human philosophical thinking, constrained by finite minds, unreliable senses, and mutable language, stands in dramatic contrast to the omniscience of God—whose knowledge is unbounded, immediate, and true. The existential courtroom exposes this gulf: mankind is indicted by the very act of seeking knowledge, condemned by original sin to eternally wrestle with uncertainty, yet ennobled in the struggle for meaning.[thundergodblog +1]
Epistemological Arguments in Dialogue

The Eden story is woven throughout: Adam and Eve, tempted by the tree’s fruit, broke divine law in pursuit of forbidden knowledge. The court’s drama mirrors this primal act—human reason is both accused and defended, wisdom sought yet never judged.[thundergodblog]
Closing: The Unresolved Tension
No verdict is handed down. The courtroom remains in session, charged with the ongoing tension between human striving and divine omniscience. All objections are sustained, all doubts remain—our frailty is our confessor, the judge’s silence our final, open-ended appeal.[thundergodblog]
This dramatization not only extends the original narrative, but highlights the enduring battle within epistemology—man’s desperate yearning to know in the shadow of the divine.[thundergodblog +3]

A teaser for my new book

DC Gunnersen on Human Reason
DC Gunnersen is arguing that human reason is both noble and dangerous: noble because it reaches toward truth, dangerous because after Eden it easily mistakes itself for God. In “The Trial of Human Reason,” he frames reason as fallen through Genesis 3:6, where the desire “to make one wise” becomes the origin point for self-trust, deception, and the question of whether philosophy and logic can truly absolve humanity. In “The Indictment of Human Reason,” he develops that idea into a cosmic courtroom where “Man” is charged with trying to know apart from revelation, while Rationalism defends inquiry as an act of hope rather than rebellion.
Summary of the argument
Gunnersen’s central claim is not simply “reason is bad,” but “reason becomes guilty when it declares itself sufficient without God.” The key sentence in “Indictment” is God’s line: “It was not the knowledge that condemned him, but the belief that knowledge could stand apart from Me”. That line clarifies the whole project: curiosity, philosophy, and science are not condemned in themselves, but autonomous reason, reason severed from divine truth, becomes a repetition of Eden.
In “Trial,” the same idea appears in poetic form: “We turned away and now rely on what is fallible,” followed by the question, “To trust on oneself, is truth now intangible?”. He connects this to Satan’s lies, especially “God withholds good things from us” and “trust in the deity of self,” which means the failure of reason is also a spiritual temptation toward self-reliance.
The “Indictment” expands the philosophical side by putting empiricism, rationalism, Kant, and Wittgenstein into the courtroom. Empiricism is challenged because “the senses deceive,” rationalism is challenged because pure reason still finds “limits in subjectivity,” Kant is invoked to show that human knowledge is bounded by phenomena rather than noumena, and Wittgenstein is used to show that language itself is unstable and context-bound. The contrast is between human knowledge, which is finite, mediated, sensory, linguistic, and fallen, and God’s knowledge, which Gunnersen describes as “unmediated, omniscient” and “unbounded”.
Strengths
• Strong mythic frame: The courtroom device gives the argument dramatic force because Man is both accused and witness, Reason has a defense attorney, and Divine Wisdom prosecutes with the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge. This makes abstract epistemology feel existential rather than academic.
• Balanced enough to avoid crude anti-intellectualism: Gunnersen lets the defense say that inquiry is an “act of hope” and that man seeks “to illuminate the darkness,” which prevents the piece from reducing all thinking to sin. The strongest version of his claim is that reason must be humbled and rightly ordered, not abolished.
• Good diagnosis of rationalization: In “Trial,” he links reason with temptation, self-deception, and the need to be right, asking, “Consider the reasons we argue? Consider why we fight? The need to know? The need to be right?”. That is psychologically sharp because reason often does serve ego, appetite, tribalism, or fear rather than truth.
• Theological clarity: The argument is strongest when read as Christian anthropology: human beings are fallen, finite, tempted by self-deification, and unable to reach omniscience by philosophical systems alone (The Trial of Human Reason; The Indictment of Human Reason).
Weaknesses
• It sometimes conflates limitation with guilt: Showing that human reason is finite, sense-bound, language-bound, or historically conditioned does not by itself prove that reason is morally rebellious. Kantian limits or Wittgensteinian language-games show humility is needed, but they do not automatically show that inquiry is an Edenic sin.
• The argument depends heavily on accepting the Christian frame: If the reader does not already accept Genesis, original sin, Satanic deception, and divine omniscience, the conclusion will feel asserted more than demonstrated. Inside Christian theology the argument has coherence, but outside that frame it needs more independent support.
• Empiricism and rationalism are treated somewhat schematically: The “Indictment” presents empiricism as demanding proof where faith once rested and rationalism as building systems where obedience once sufficed, but that risks making philosophy sound like pride by definition. A stronger version would distinguish humble investigation from arrogant self-sufficiency more carefully.
• The unresolved ending is poetically effective but philosophically incomplete: The judge issues no final verdict, leaving “the indictment of human reason” open and the “trial of human reason” forever in debate (The Indictment of Human Reason; The Trial of Human Reason). That ambiguity suits the literary mood, but it means the argument gestures more than it proves.
Bottom line
Gunnersen is arguing that reason is on trial because it is tempted to become its own god. His best insight is that the human mind does not merely seek truth, it also rationalizes desire, pride, control, and self-justification. His weakest move is treating the failure of unaided reason as though it almost automatically confirms the need for his specific theological conclusion. The argument is powerful as Christian poetic theology and moral psychology; it is less complete as a philosophical proof against secular reason.

DCG

I’m trying to seek approval

I am trying to seek approval

Because of my father‘s love I never had

He neglected my feelings

I grew up, emotionally fractured, broken, and sad

This is very common

People form a trauma bond

The underlying attraction they feel

Is a masquerade and is still wrong

The familiarity in attachment theory

Has profound implications

Deeply embedded into our  intimacy responses 

Within our primary relations

the more I have studied this behavior

The deepest silent anguish of misery

From those who do not even recognize their condition

will continue to commiserate on their injury

The abhorrent parenting practices

Leave their forsaken children in emotional chains

The atrocious mothers and fathers

Will never see their own children’s pain

https://fb.watch/Dc_OLWTbVg/?mibextid=wwXIfr&fs=e

https://fb.watch/Dc_wce61XB/?mibextid=wwXIfr&fs=e

https://www.facebook.com/reel/1750969038735564/?fs=e&mibextid=wwXIfr&fs=e

https://www.facebook.com/reel/801244572305841?fs=e&mibextid=wwXIfr&fs=e

https://www.facebook.com/reel/1878975279668057/?fs=e&mibextid=wwXIfr&fs=e

https://www.facebook.com/reel/24540551328971729?fs=e&mibextid=wwXIfr&fs=e

https://youtube.com/shorts/krrUECw1Vkw?si=7R_0Wiz8jvGgcJHa

RSP

DCG

See John Bowlby‘s work on attachment theory

See spark growth on YouTube 

@sparkgrowthofficial 

Breathe deeply

Release of anxiety

Release of any trauma

Forgiveness must be made

To let go of any drama

Breathe deeply

Pain has an unrelenting hold

Have faith to let go

Face the truth or so I am told 

Maybe it’s denial

Not facing up to your pain

Using a bad coping strategy

Going around and around again

For the avoidant

They will rarely ever learn

If you keep yourself busy enough to make a turn

You will always yearn

Sometimes the child within us

Has never learned to grow

Be very cautious

To those who are unwilling or afraid to show

RSP

DCG

https://youtube.com/shorts/Tr8n-qTfdgI?si=-l216YrIr7N8Kdsd

https://youtube.com/shorts/jOKZc3pu4Tw?si=wn8FzNP_kvjZtfL2

Cogito ego Scribo

In my contemplation

I deal with doubt

Cogito ego Scribo

I think therefore I write is what I shout

I ruminate about skepticism

The human condition is self evident

As I am just a member

With whom I represent

The temptation of certainty

Is much like the story of the original sin

Thomas Aquinas summa theologiae

This is where it all begins

The temptation to disobey and break the covenant

To put ourselves above God and self proclaim divinity

Our fruit from the tree of knowledge on its own is flawed

What we call humanity

The indictment of human reason

With an angelic court that presides

The arbiter of justice

Only God knows when he decides

DCG

What then if reason becomes corrupted?

Even the purest heart

Must be led by reason

Blind faith will seldom help the farmer

If they don’t know the season

Conversely, if the mind of the child is pure

What then if reason becomes corrupted?

What then will mind do?

When it is manipulated and instructed?

You can look into the heart

You can look into the guiding principle

Depending on your view

Maybe they are indivisible

I would argue for Plato‘s tripartite mind

And the charioteer

Clearly, there are distinct differences

No matter how you steer

You can argue epistemology

You can argue philosophy of mind

Show me the logic of a truth table

I’ll show you the musings of Ludvig Wittenstein

DCG

The parable of the mirror without a frame 

He sat alone in the late hour, staring into a mirror with no frame. The glass was cracked—not broken—but fractured just enough to splinter his reflection. Each shard showed a different face: one proud, one fearful, one weary, one unsure.
Which one was the true self? Was it the face that demanded to be seen, or the one too humble to lift its eyes?
He had once believed that humility was a weakness. Yet now he wondered: if pride defends the fortress of the ego, does gratitude not open its gates? And when the gates open—does one risk invasion, or liberation?
Each question struck him deeper than confession. The mirror whispered what the world never said aloud: that perhaps knowing one’s smallness was not to suffer, but to be free of illusion.
Around him, the air seemed still—so quiet that truth felt near enough to breathe. He thought of every moment he had sought to prove himself, every victory he mistook for worth. But what if humility was not the denial of strength, but the revelation that it was never his to own?
What if gratitude was not thanks for gain but awe for existence itself?
He placed his hand against the cracked glass. The fractures caught the light and became rivers of reflection, winding across his palm like veins. In that trembling shimmer he saw something not beautiful, yet honest—a man no longer trying to be more than human.
Was the mirror flawed, or had it shown him the way truth looks when stripped of perfection?
He closed his eyes and heard the quiet again, not as void but as voice. The kind that asks rather than tells:
Can one love without humility?
Can one see without gratitude?
And when one finally kneels—not before power, but before awareness—who stands taller?

DCG

Life hack number three

To heal a heart and soul

You must reveal the heart and soul

Always consider forgiveness

Only we control what we console

DCG