I am alone - me alone, I exist alone, I consume the crowd and the crowd becomes me without me there is no crowd without me - nothing no thing without me the thing, any thing is absent was never there had never existed I, alone, am and, alone, I exist
philosophy
Sunday Songs to Spark the Spirit and Summon the Moves of the Dance
Life is all it is – joyful, sad, comprehensive, confusing, peaceful, violent, and on and on and on…
Of course, regardless of what reality tries to tell one, it can only be what one – you, me, each unique individual making up the all of we – says it is.
And no matter how hard we/I try to understand it, to challenge it, to master it, chances are we/I never will; and chances are along the way we/I will alienate those who see reality 180 degrees differently than you/me.
So, understanding our understanding and execution of life will always be incomplete and often inaccurate, and way off kilter to many, accepting that some will love us for what we do and, sadly, some with hate us for the same, will hopefully make it all a bit less painful.
So, we might as smile the best we can and dance.
#embraceyourreality
Realm of the Divine
It isn’t always easy doing the things we have to do.
Unless it’s one of those happy occasions, as rare as they may be,
when the thing we have to do, is something we want to do.
But whether we want to or not, we do these things anyway.
Because we have to.
That’s just the way life is.
And the way life is…
Literary Zen XII
I don’t know why people expect art to make sense. They accept the fact that life doesn’t make sense.
#meditate
Literary Zen XI
There is some wisdom in taking a gloomy view, in looking upon the world as a kind of Hell, and in confining one’s efforts to securing a little room that shall not be exposed to the fire.
*Perhaps a better caption would be, Willem Defoe as Arthur Schopenhauer, which is why I shan’t give up my day job.
Oh yeah, my books will be free from 00:01 (PDST) tonight until 23:59 PDST) Friday.
✌️
Does it matter if our soul* is eternal?
Leaving religion with its heavens and hells and golden-paved avenues and abiding virgins and doting angels and disinterested saints and other high-ranking, hifalutin gods and demigods aside, is there an actual evolutionary and/or functioning purpose for an eternal soul?
In other words, does the fact that our souls are eternal matter to our day-to-day struggle to survive?
Or is this concept just a necessary illusion, one that provides us with a false sense of immortality to help us deal with our debilitating fear of death?
Anyway…
I guess we won’t know until we know, you know?
And in case you’re wondering, I just read a click-bate article about the ‘Orch-OR’ theory, so it got me to wondering…
*If the word soul is a bit too new-agey and metaphysical for you, replace it with consciousness
Literary Zen X
Everyone who has ever built anywhere a new heaven first found the power thereto in his own hell.
The Way Better Day Than Tomorrow
I'm told to live my life like There's no tomorrow But truly There has to be a better way For if the morrow never comes And it's my last breath I breathe today How will I know to appreciate it For won't I be too enthralled, too focused, too busy with Living As much as I can, as hard as I can, as fast as I can Before the day's end and the morrow that may never come To simply catch my breath and just Breathe Slow and steady In and out Filling my lungs Feeling my lungs Expand and Contract And listen to the fresh-filled blood pounding in the ears Echoes of the patient heart Sounding throughout the rest of today and in To the morrow and beyond Forever
The River and the Bed
The river winds around my head, Fish before my eyes. I lay my cheek upon its bed and Contemplate the skies of Morning's red, of Midday's blue, of Twilight's pink aglow, that Filters through the rushing stream Born of mountains long ago. Where does it go in such a rush from Rushing 'bout my mind? This Is the thought I can't escape; Its answer won't unwind its Liquid coils from the root where All such knowledge grows. And Like the river born of distant mounts, Its seed sown long ago.