You're welcome to friend me, but I won't necessarily friend back. Nothing personal.
Extinguish Thou My Eyes
Extinguish Thou my eyes:I still can see Thee, deprive my ears of sound:I still can hear Thee, and without feet I still can come to Thee, and without voice I still can call to Thee.
Sever my arms from me, I still will hold Thee with all my heart as with a single hand, arrest my heart, my brain will keep on beating, and Should Thy fire at last my brain consume, the flowing of my blood will carry Thee. - Rainer Maria Rilke
I am proof of the power of Gods. -Incantation 55, Egyptian Book of the Dead
One must make oneself a seer by a long, gigantic and rational derangement of all the senses. -Arthur Rimbaud
Well? Am I not a madman, and therefore irresponsible? Haven't I the right to talk nonsense? -Uncle Vanya; Anton Chekhov
'Real isn't how you are made,' said the Skin Horse. 'It's a thing that happens to you...'
'Does it hurt?' asked the Rabbit.
'Sometimes,' said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. 'When you are Real, you don't mind being hurt...It doesn't happen all at once,' said the Skin Horse. 'You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.'
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling) i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true) and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
"When I think about it, it seems to me that such words have no meaning when applied to him. He is not as we are and we can never understand him. He is incomprehensible, inscrutable. He is god.
"And so far as I comprehend it he is both evil and good, both light and darkness, both meaningless and full of a meaning which we can never perceive, yet never cease to puzzle over. A riddle which is intended not to be solved but to exist. To exist for us always. To trouble us always.
"The most incomprehensible thing about him is that he can also be a little turf altar where we may lay a few ears of corn and so be at ease and at peace. He may be a spring where we can mirror our faces and drink sweet, fresh water from our hands. He can be that, too, I know. Though he was not that for me---I think he could not be.
"For me he has been a wild chasm which engulfed me and all that I held dear. A glowing breath and an embrace without safety, without peace, but for which I longed nevertheless. A hot and alien power with ruled my ways.
"He has made me very unhappy. But he has also allowed me to know a happiness passing all understanding. He has, and I must not forget it.
"What would my life have been without him? If I had never been filled with him, with his spirit? If I had never felt the bliss that poured from him, the anguish and pain that is his also, and the wonder of being annihilated in his blazing arms, of being altogether his? Of feeling his rapture, his boundless bliss, and sharing god's infinite happiness in being alive?
"What would I have been without that? If I had never experienced anything but myself?
"Yet I cannot forget all the evil he has done me, and the horror. How he took possession of my whole life and took from me every earthly joy. How he opened his abysses to me, his evil depths. I don't forget that, and I don't forgive!
"But sitting here, old and alone, looking back---looking back over my life, it is you, my god, that I think of. For it is you who have been my life, you who consume and burn all things like fire. You who leave nothing in your wake. My life is what I have lived in you. The cruel, bitter, rich life you have given me. May you be cursed and blessed!"
Watching a performance of warriors, I was told This fighters tradition is Six hundred years old. And I saw a performance so mired in ritual-- As if nothing valid had happened in six hundred years. We must honor the classical without being irrelevant.
Is there a difference between yes and no? Is there a difference between good and evil? Must I fear what others fear? What nonsense! Other people are contented, enjoying the sacrificial feast of the ox. In spring some go to the park, and climb the terrace, But I alone am drifting, not knowing where I am. Like a newborn babe before it learns to smile. I am alone, without a place to go.
Others have more then they need, but I alone have nothing. I am a fool. Oh, yes! I am confused. Other men are clever and bright, But I alone am dim and weak. Other men are sharp and clever, But I alone am dull and stupid. Oh, I drift like the waves of the sea, Without direction, like the restless wind.
Everyone else is busy, But I alone am aimless and depressed. I am different. I am noursihed by the great mother.