'Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.'
― Victor Hugo
'Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.'
― Victor Hugo
In the merry-go-round of life
only those that think they are wise
and those that don't try to be wise are happy.
I have studied all secrets of the universe
and returned to my lonely place,
envying the blind I met.
― Omar Khayyam
I am nothing. I’m like someone who’s been thrown into the ocean at night, floating all alone.
I reach out, but no one is there. I call out, but no one answers.
I have no connection to anything.
Haruki Murakami, 1Q84
I have the beat and shouting
*Queues up Sabotage by Beastie Boys*
Jaylah, Star Trek Beyond
"All sorts of things in this world behave like mirrors."
— Jacques Lacan, Seminar II
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
“Critics who treat 'adult' as a term of approval, instead of as a merely descriptive term, cannot be adult themselves. To be concerned about being grown up, to admire the grown up because it is grown up, to blush at the suspicion of being childish; these things are the marks of childhood and adolescence. And in childhood and adolescence they are, in moderation, healthy symptoms. Young things ought to want to grow. But to carry on into middle life or even into early manhood this concern about being adult is a mark of really arrested development. When I was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am fifty I read them openly. When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.”
― C.S. Lewis
“I will give no one the satisfaction of my death.”
“My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.” —C.G. Jung
"And like the moon, she had a side of her so dark, that even the stars couldn’t shine on it; she had a side of her so cold, that even the sun couldn’t burn on it."
– Unknown
"No law can be sacred to me but that of my nature. "
— Emerson
A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly.
Specialization is for insects.
- Robert A. Heinlein
You can actually draw random poems from here: https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/
Here is the one I got-
The Meth Craze or The Meth Epidemic
All of this meth business and bullshit
was Hollywood+CIA...created
Breaking Bad was the catalyst
the meth craze is one huge ungodly
money racket...
with meth there are no hassle with supply
its all money...cheap to make unlike other
drugs...cocaine herioin marijuana
meth is all money all the way the cellphones
keeps and makes all the business going on
pretty much available knowledge
the dealers phones are tapped and traced
each phone call of the process
it certainly looks to be one of the smoothest
operations going for the law and the CIA
"Anything that can be reached with a ladder does not interest me."
— Ludwig Wittgenstein
"One advantage in keeping a diary is that you become aware with reassuring clarity of the changes which you constantly suffer."
— Franz Kafka
"Omnia vincit Amor"
— Virgil
"All theory, dear friend, is gray, but the golden tree of life springs ever green."
— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
What about a song lyric?
"And you will come to find that we are all one mind. Capable of all that's imagined and all conceivable."
When someone with the authority of a teacher, say, describes the world and you are not in it, there is a moment of psychic disequilibrium, as if you looked into a mirror and saw nothing. Yet you know you exist and others like you, that this is a game with mirrors. It takes some strength of soul–and not just individual strength, but collective understanding–to resist this void, this nonbeing, into which you are thrust, and to stand up, demanding to be seen and heard.
—Adrienne Rich
It is clear that in dreaming of himself as donor, liberator, redeemer, man still desires the subjection of woman; for in order to awaken the Sleeping Beauty, she must have been put to sleep: ogres and dragons must be if there are to be captive princesses. The more man acquires a taste for difficult enterprises, however, the more it will please him to give woman independence. To conquer is still more fascinating than to give gifts or to release.
Thus the ideal of the average Western man is a woman who freely accepts his domination, who does not accept his ideas without discussion, but who yields to his arguments, who resists him intelligently and ends by being convinced. The greater his pride, the more dangerous he likes his adventures to be: it is much more splendid to conquer Penthesilea than it is to marry a yielding Cinderella. ‘The warrior loves danger and sport,’ said Nietzsche; ‘that is why he loves woman, the most dangerous sport of all.’ The man who likes danger and sport is not displeased to see woman turn into an amazon if he retains the hope of subjugating her. What he requires in his heart of hearts is that this struggle remain a game for him, while for woman it involves her very destiny. Man’s true victory, whether he is liberator or conqueror, lies in just this: that woman freely recognises him as her destiny.
—Simone de Beauvoir, ‘The Second Sex’, trans. H. M. Parshley, p 216.
“I have wrestled with an alligator, I done tussled with a whale, I done handcuffed lightning, thrown thunder in jail. That's bad. Only last week I murdered a rock, injured a stone, hospitalized a brick, I'm so mean I make medicine sick.”
-The Greatest
When Freud and Jung broke, which was a teacher-student relationship, or at least Freud though it was, Jung quoted Nietzsche to him. "One repays a teacher badly if one remains forever a pupil."Originally Posted by lungs
Only when you have all denied me shall I return.
I now go away alone, my disciples! You too now go away and be alone! Thus I want it.
Truly, I advise you: go away from me and guard yourselves against Zarathustra! And better still: be ashamed of him! Perhaps he has deceived you.
The man of knowledge must not only love his enemies, he must also be able to hate his friends.
One repays a teacher badly if one always remains only a pupil. And why, then, should you not pluck at my laurels?
You revere me; but what if your reverence tumbles one day? Beware that a statue does not strike you dead!
You say you believe in Zarathustra? But of what importance is Zarathustra? You are my believers: but of what importance are all believers?
You had not yet sought yourselves: then you found me. Thus do all believers; therefore all faith amounts to so little.
Now I bid you lose me and find yourselves; and only when you have all denied me will I return to you.
Be honest and true, boys!
Whatever you do, boys,
Let this be your motto through life.
Both now and forever,
Be this your endeavor,
When wrong with the right is at strife.
The best and the truest,
Alas! are the fewest;
But be one of these if you can.
In duty ne’er fail; you
Will find ‘twill avail you,
And bring its reward when a man.
Don’t think life plain sailing;
There’s danger of failing.
Though bright seem the future to be;
But honor and labor,
And truth to your neighbor,
Will bear you safe over life’s sea.
Then up and be doing,
Right only pursuing,
And take your fair part in the strife.
Be honest and true, boys,
Whatever you do, boys,
Let this be your motto trough life!
I'm a street walking cheetah with a heart full of napalm
I'm a runaway son of the nuclear A-bomb
I am a world's forgotten boy
The one who searches and destroys
Honey gotta help me please
Somebody gotta save my soul
Baby detonate for me
Look out honey, 'cause I'm using technology
Ain't got time to make no apology
Soul radiation in the dead of night
Love in the middle of a fire fight
Honey gotta strike me blind
Somebody gotta save my soul
Baby penetrate my mind
Let me begin by telling you that I was in love. An ordinary statement, to be sure, but not an ordinary fact, for so few of us learn that love is tenderness, and tenderness is not, as a fair proportion suspect, pity; and still fewer know that happiness in love is not the absolute focusing of all emotion in another: one has to love a good many things which the beloved must come only to symbolize; the true beloveds in this world are in their lover’s eye lilac opening, ship lights, school bells, a landscape, remembered conversations, friends, a child’s Sunday, lost voices, one’s favorite suit, Autumn and all seasons, memory, yes, it being the earth and water of existence, memory.
From “Other Voices, Other Rooms,” Truman Capote
David Chethlahe Paladin is a Navaho Indian living on a reservation in Arizona
The army tells David as he is a Navaho, they are going to drop him behind enemy lines and use him as an information gatherer in their special services. David, using his native language, is to relay his findings to another Navaho in the army. Their language becomes a code that the Germans are unable to crack, much less decipher.
David is dropped behind enemy lines. Ultimately, he is captured and interrogated for information. The German officers find him useless and direct that he be sent to a death camp and executed as a spy.
The guard then orders that David’s feet be nailed to the floor and that David stand there with his arms outstretched for three days like Christ on the cross. Every time David would falter and crumple the guards would hoist him up again. In the middle of the night, someone would sneak in and cram raw, maggot-covered chicken innards into David’s mouth.
When the Allies open up this camp, they find David a mere shell of a man, weighing maybe 70 pounds, and speaking Russian*. They turn David over to the Russians. David later speaks English and gives his name, rank and serial number to the Russians who transfer him back to the US military.
David is sent to a VA hospital in Battle Creek Michigan where he spends the next 2 years in a coma. At the end of two years, his legs are encased in metal braces, similar to what polio patients used. David, a young man, maybe not even 21 years of age, is to be sent to a VA home for the rest of his life.
David asks if he can visit his family on the reservation. The answer is, “Of course.” David literally drags himself onto the reservation. He meets with the elders of tribe. They ask to hear his whole story. David tells them every horrible thing that he endured. He is full of anger, rage and hate.
The elders confer and tell David to meet them tomorrow at a designated point on the Little Colorado River. David agrees and at the appointed hour he arrives. One of the elders tethers a rope around his waist; others remove the braces from his legs. They hoist David up into the air and as they throw him into the raging current of the Little Colorado River, they say, “Chethlahe, call back your spirit or die. Call back your spirit or die.”
David would later say that those moments in the Little Colorado River were the very hardest of his life. He had to fight himself for himself. And he was able to see the big picture; he understood why things unfolded as they did. For example, he realized that the raw chicken parts were meant as a source of protein to sustain him so that he might live.
David Paladin was thrown into the river as a very broken – and broken on every level — man. And David emerged out of the Little Colorado River like the phoenix out of the ashes.
"May all beings everywhere, with whom we are inseparably interconnected, be fulfilled, awakened, and free. May there be peace in this world and throughout the entire universe, and may we all together complete the spiritual journey."
— Lama Surya Das
Jack Burton: Just remember what ol' Jack Burton does when the earth quakes, and the poison arrows fall from the sky, and the pillars of Heaven shake. Yeah, Jack Burton just looks that big ol' storm right square in the eye and he says, "Give me your best shot, pal. I can take it."
Jack Burton: When some wild-eyed, eight-foot-tall maniac grabs your neck, taps the back of your favorite head up against the barroom wall, and he looks you crooked in the eye and he asks you if ya paid your dues, you just stare that big sucker right back in the eye, and you remember what ol' Jack Burton always says at a time like that: "Have ya paid your dues, Jack?" "Yessir, the check is in the mail."
I love Tex Cobb. He is a boxer and karate guy who has been in many movies as the hardass. The biker in Raising Arizona for example. He is known for being tough as hell. Having an iron chin in boxing against some of the greats. I like this story he told. "Ain't nobody bad. I know, I looked." lol
" I was very influenced by Eastern philosophies & religion. After I dropped out of college, I started traveling around the country. I was 19 years old and I decided to find me something that worked, like being cool. Being cool worked, it got you out of trouble and you got a lot of good things happening for you but I never had more than maybe a C- in cool. Being smart worked for you. It got you out of a lot of trouble and got you a lot of good things and although I was actually pretty quick, I didn’t count it for much ‘cause it came real easy to me. I could memorize large sections of data and regurgitate it back to you but it didn’t bring me any happiness. But believe me, being smart isn’t nearly as good as being wise. Then there was having money, it got you out of a lot of trouble and got you a lot of good things and I never had two nickels.. . but there was being bad . . . and being bad applied across the board. Because you could take a rich, cool, smart guy and you could have him doing anything you could possibly conceive of because you were bad. So I thought, hey I found me the secret of the temple, I’ll go out and get me a Pass Master in bad, and I did. And there ain’t nobody bad believe me, I looked. I fought for world titles in boxing, karate, I fought bar wars, street corners, most everything living and half the stuff dead and darling it don’t matter there ain’t nobody bad, I know, I looked . . . ”
A Buddhist story I always liked:
It's just as if a man were wounded with an arrow thickly smeared with poison. His friends & companions, kinsmen & relatives would provide him with a surgeon, and the man would say, 'I won't have this arrow removed until I know whether the man who wounded me was a noble warrior, a priest, a merchant, or a worker.' He would say, 'I won't have this arrow removed until I know the given name & clan name of the man who wounded me... until I know whether he was tall, medium, or short... until I know whether he was dark, ruddy-brown, or golden-colored... until I know his home village, town, or city... until I know whether the bow with which I was wounded was a long bow or a crossbow... until I know whether the bowstring with which I was wounded was fiber, bamboo threads, sinew, hemp, or bark... until I know whether the shaft with which I was wounded was wild or cultivated... until I know whether the feathers of the shaft with which I was wounded were those of a vulture, a stork, a hawk, a peacock, or another bird... until I know whether the shaft with which I was wounded was bound with the sinew of an ox, a water buffalo, a langur, or a monkey.' He would say, 'I won't have this arrow removed until I know whether the shaft with which I was wounded was that of a common arrow, a curved arrow, a barbed, a calf-toothed, or an oleander arrow.' The man would die and those things would still remain unknown to him.
- When there is freedom from mechanical conditioning, there is simplicity. The classical man is just a bundle of routine, ideas and tradition. If you follow the classical pattern, you are understanding the routine, the tradition, the shadow — you are not understanding yourself.
- Do not deny the classical approach, simply as a reaction, or you will have created another pattern and trapped yourself there- Bruce Lee
"What is 'historicity'?"
"When a thing has history in it. Listen. One of those two Zippo lighters was in Franklin D. Roosevelt's pocket when he was assassinated. And one wasn't. One has historicity, a hell of a lot of it. As much as any object ever had. And one has nothing. Can you feel it?" He nudged her. "You can't. You can't tell which is which. There's no 'mystical plasma presence,' no 'aura' around it."... "It's all a big racket; they're playing it on themselves. I mean, a gun goes through a famous battle, like the Meuse-Argonne, and it's the same as if it hadn't, unless you know. It's in here." He tapped his head. "In the mind, not the gun."
In the middle of the century just past, Mayne Reid was the great writer of books of out-of-door adventure. He was forever extolling the hunters and field-observers of living animals' habits, and keeping up a fire of invective against the * closet-naturalists,' as he called them, the collectors and classifiers, and handlers of skeletons and skins. When I was a boy, I used to think that a closet-naturalist must be the vilest type of wretch under the sun.
But surely the systematic theologians are the closet-naturalists of the deity, even in Captain Mayne Reid's sense. What is their deduction of metaphysical attributes but a shuffling and matching of pedantic dictionary-adjectives, aloof from morals, aloof from human needs, something that might be worked out from the mere word * God' by one of those logical machines of wood and brass which recent ingenuity has contrived as well as by a man of flesh and blood. They have the trail of the serpent over them.
-William James
This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end
Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end
No safety or surprise, the end
I'll never look into your eyes...again
Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need...of some...stranger's hand
In a...desperate land
Lost in a Roman...wilderness of pain
And all the children are insane
All the children are insane
Waiting for the summer rain, yeah
There's danger on the edge of town
Ride the King's highway, baby
Weird scenes inside the gold mine
Ride the highway west, baby
Ride the snake, ride the snake
To the lake, the ancient lake, baby
The snake is long, seven miles
Ride the snake...he's old, and his skin is cold
The west is the best
The west is the best
Get here, and we'll do the rest
The blue bus is callin' us
The blue bus is callin' us
Driver, where you taken' us
The killer awoke before dawn, he put his boots on
He took a face from the ancient gallery
And he walked on down the hall
He went into the room where his sister lived, and...then he
Paid a visit to his brother, and then he
He walked on down the hall, and
And he came to a door...and he looked inside
Father, yes son, I want to kill you
Mother...I want to...fuck you
Whatever you think or do regularly becomes a habit, a strongly conditioned pathway in the brain. The more you think about what can go wrong, the more your mind is primed to anticipate trouble. The more you lash out in anger, the more your body and mind are geared toward aggression. The more you think about how you might help others, the more your mind and heart are inclined to be generous. Just as weight lifting builds muscles, the way you direct your attention can strengthen anxiety, hostility, and addiction, or it can lead you to healing and awakening.
—Tara Brach, True Refuge: Finding Peace and Freedom in Your Own Awakened Heart
Maybe this is too selfhelpy utilitarian but I find it reassuring. I'm too focused sometimes on just coming to terms w who I am like I'm a fkn rock, or thinking I need some kind of epiphany or breakdown to change
That quote is a fact to me. It's habitual. Absolutely. Like posture. You're imbalanced and lean to one extreme. Sitting. My body is used to sitting cuz I sit so much. It isn't used to being active. It has grown accustomed to sitting. Your body will adjust to your habits as will your mind. Muhammad Ali said what you are thinking is what you are becoming. There is an old proverb. Bulgarian I think. A tree tends to fall the way it leans. That is why you don't lean for too long. You are a spring, you bounce back.
“Don't be in a hurry to condemn because he doesn't do what you do or think as you think or as fast. There was a time when you didn't know what you know today.”
― Malcolm X
"And in those days shall men seek death, and shall not find it, and shall desire to die, and death shall flee from them."
I don't know where to put this but I feel like such a jackass for my behavior yesterday. Almost too embarrassed to come back to the site. lol. I have some issues obviously. I started a fight from nothing. I don't dislike anyone on this forum. Like somebody asked me why I disliked the guy I was going off on. I don't. He was just in my range of fire at the time and somebody to take it out on. And I was drinking too. Which I should stop.
Anyway, I realize the problem is me and not others.
To keep it on topic I will add two quotes that remind me of my behavior:
"It's not a slam at you when people are rude, it's a slam at the people they've met before." - F. Scott Fitzgerald
“Rudeness is the weak man's imitation of strength.”
― Eric Hoffer, The Passionate State of Mind: And Other Aphorisms
I like this one too:
To be humble to superiors is duty; to equals, is courtesy; to inferiors, is nobleness; and to all, safety: it being a virtue that, for all her lowliness, commandeth those souls it stoops to.Sir Thomas More.
"And in those days shall men seek death, and shall not find it, and shall desire to die, and death shall flee from them."
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