focus deeply. utilize all of ur greatest tools. the only one i ever used was my heart. pleaze dont make the enormous gortesque cognitive assumption of seperating BEing from BEcoming and identifying it with the mathematical abstraction of the Idea. thus is why he could never see the miracle, lie after lie, moment after moment, of naked existance in all its glory. open the double doors to dissonance flat and dense like paperplanes being folded and flown thru this darkn familiar room dont forget where we were when our dream stopped
metaphor for life.excuse abuse. and exile to the mind, cast off to dig a grave for the soul. the line was caught and tangled through every word, densely aware of each feeling and emotion it brings. breathe deeply and remember for its all that we can do.
we are surrounded by life and I will never understand so i suggest we rest comfortably in blind contentment at the bottom of a bottle of scotch or rum or vodka, counting the quaRTERS and i run out to buy more...
quarter life hath side stepped the only true paradox - time itself. Ilove them why do you say that in such a terrible way? Because My Love Is Terrible Whatever does not kill you strengthens you. Yes, but... And how painful it is to dream of happiness. The crushing weight of it all. Better to say nothing and pay attention to everything else.
A dilemma, Gide says, between morality and sicerity. And Again: the only beautiful things are those that madness prompts and reason writes.
the mere basis of conviction. spread free my wings and live once more under the fiery cold midnight moonlight . indifference has made us foolish. weve made strange allusions to henricksen In Urgency We spiral down these clockwork steps, to the floor, rushing, oceanic we melt away like the tide we become one. near that point peak in your mind drowning now in thought has this dream ever been so real?
advice read with grains of salt.granules falling from your hand. pouring out through pores; building teraces of thought comotion on the flat rock bed in your mind. wade through the murky pathological ponds of emotional discourse. bare feet splash and splunge sinking deeper now. these deep puddles have untold dimensions. curiosity for knowledge leaves sunspots on your mind
we create art today, great masterpieces works of love and works of war. many wars.
we have merely begun, merely tapped, with twitching, now dripping fingers, just testing temperatures, curiosity calls, beckons us.... leaves us.... and i hope we meet again
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"woah, that cat was really buggin out man, you should have put on some grateful dead so he could relax and enjoi his trip" -random shroomerite
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