Reflection

There are some who claim to want no part with life in the world – They wish to flee from it as quick as possible.  And there are some whose whole view of life in the world is but a grim reflection of a frightful dream – they exist in dread, anticipating an all too familiar inevitability, which all will end. But there are others….. There are others who find themselves in the midst of their own contradictions perfectly at home; who’s pleasure is in living by the moment and who’s desire is nothing extra, not even an extra day added to their finite existence. These call the world into being as their own… and as a reflection… The world is but a reflection.

What does One do with Life?

I like the shutting off of lights. There’s a certain stillness and silence that accompanies the darkness that follows. There’s something final about it; something inescapable. Yo be alone in the darkness of a room is like being buried alive. You’re isolated from the world. You become what you are – total self. To be thrown upon yourself isn’t always a safe thing, for one can easily get lost in ones’ own complexity. The darkness that fills the room isn’t an emptiness – it’s a nothingness. There you are alone in the pitch black; conscious of your own being, and conscious of your own self. Two different things but the same. Think on this. What are you when you think about? Only for a short time are you conscious of your thoughts contents; that is, their substance. Then, all of a sudden, they dash off into the nothingness of the dark void. Nothing remains, nothing but that being for which life is a conformation. You.

Thanks for the Views

Thanks to all that have viewed my blog. I’m still learning how to navigate this system, so please know that I’m not neglecting  your work – just have to figure out how to find you and stay tuned.

Hemingway

I enjoy Hemingway’s writing. The simple complexity of work is inspiring to say the least. If you haven’t already, please read The Old Man and the Sea. It’s a timeless piece that, for me, participates in the tradition of so many of our existential writers. 

Another Musing

In those moments of pristine clarity

I see what I shall come to be,

But I will not share it –

Not to the world nor with thee.

Some Streams of Thought Uncensored

To be as you are in the midst of things is to be in relation to some thing other than yourself as if the world came fully furnished with existence you entered unannounced uninvited a pure contingency thrown into the world to be in relation to no man is an island no man is alone no man thinks his own thoughts although he would like too and he strives yet he deceives himself with this disillusion he must must and has always depended upon otherness for his existence existence does not belong to him it belongs to the other he thinks he wills only in so far as he is there in the midst of things he throws his consciousness out there into the world his exterior is but an interior for the other. Rock. Mineral. Mammal. Vegetable.  Man these are the basis of building him his existence each an abstraction is a symbol a representation of the world that his is in. Even imagination and the imagined are outward projections of things that are or could be without within.

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• After Being Human (theothersideofugly.com)
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Paradise Lost—

“…And not for the Fiend’s prideful lust, / but for the freedom hoped to gain / and every fiber there remains / dangling on that tree forbidden”   -Milton

Perhaps the world is not large enough 

To contain what is within the Brain

And I’m not just a Product of my Time

And Place, for I am the Space

That creates for the sake of creating

My own inner-sphere, the whole hemisphere

is but a Circle that Eternally Returns

To that Point, which is the Self

That Point within the Self

That whole Essence of Being

A Ghost’s Heart

A ghost unto one’s self, I was until I learned to listen.

Now I listen to myself sing and cry into the eternal.

Now I experience time eternally recurring.

I’ve watched it evolve into that same dreaded blissful moment

I once tried to escape.

I lived separate moments concurrently divided within a solitary soul.

And since my wounds are not festering canker sores,

I can not show them to you.

Save for the arrows that pierced my broken heart,

I have nothing.

 

To Converse

The theorem whose hypothesis and conclusion are the conclusion and hypothesis of another.

We are all individuals within a finite world mingling one with another in our experiences of thoughts, ideas, and feelings.