| Farewell |
[Aug. 22nd, 2007|12:28 am] |
Good night, Miami.
Good morning, Sarasota.
Bye everyone - best wishes. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 23rd, 2007|09:52 pm] |
bah
"For with the higher minded everything becomes more dangerous, not only cures and remedies, but also arrogance, revenge, acuteness, profligacy, love, lust to rule, virtue, disease - and it is fair to add that it was on the soil of this essentially dangerous form of human existence, the priestly form, that man first became an interesting animal, that only here did the human soul in a higher sense acquire depth..."
"It is because of their impotence that in them hatred grows to monstrous and uncanny proprtions, to the most spiritual and poisonous kind of hatred."
Ecce Home
NietZchE |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 11th, 2007|10:14 pm] |
Syllabus came in the mail about a week ago.
There are so many courses I hope to take.
I've narrowed down my selections to the following:
Russian Short Fiction
Lines of Sight: Poetry and the Visual Arts
Neurobiology Lecture and Lab
Introduction to Genetics
Introduction to Botany
Spanish as the Fabric of Verse
cheeea |
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| EE Cummings |
[Mar. 3rd, 2007|12:54 pm] |
you've got to come out of the measurable doing universe into the immeasurable house of being
------------------------------------------------------
life is more true than reason will deceive
(more secret or than madness did reveal)
deeper is life than lose: higher than have
--but beauty is more each than living's all
multiplied by infinity sans if
the mightiest meditations of mankind
cancelled are by one merely opening leaf
(here less than nothing's more than everything)
death, as men call him, ends what they call men
--but beauty is more now than dying's when
------------------------------------------------
no man, if men are gods: but if gods must
be men, the sometimes only man is this
(most common, for each anguish is his grief;
and,for his joy is more than joy, most rare)
A fiend, if fiends speak truth; if angels burn
By their own generous completely light,
an angel; or(as various worlds he'll spurn
rather than fail immeasurable fate)
coward, clown, traitor, idiot, dreamer, beast--
such was a poet and shall be and is
--who'll solve the depths of horror to defend
a sunbeam's architecture with his life:
and carve immortal jungles of despair
to hold a mountain's heartbeat in his hand |
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| Nietzsche's poetry |
[Feb. 27th, 2007|05:39 pm] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Nietzsche - The Dandy Warhols | ] |
The Sceptic Speaks.
Your life is half-way o'er;
The clock-hand moves; your soul is thrilled with
fear,
It roamed to distant shore
And sought and found not, yet you--linger here!
Your life is half-way o'er;
That hour by hour was pain and error sheer:
Why stay? What seek you more?
"That's what I'm seeking--reasons why I'm here!"
______________________________________________
Ecce Homo
Yes, I know where I'm related,
Like the flame, unquenched, unsated,
I consume myself and glow:
All's turned to light I lay my hand on,
All to coal that I abandon,
Yes, I am a flame, I know!
_______________________________________________
Star Morality
Foredoomed to spaces vast and far,
What matters darkness to the star?
Roll calmly on, let time go by,
Let sorrows pass thee--nation's die!
Compassion would but dim the light
That distant worlds will gladly sight.
To thee one law--be pure and bright!
------------------------------------------
My Good Luck
Weary of Seeking had I grown,
So taught myself the way to Find:
Back by the storm I once was blown,
But follow now, where drives the wind.
---------------------------------------
Worldly Wisdom
Stay not on level plain,
Climb not the mount too high,
But half-way up remain--
The world you'll best descry!
________________________________________
To a Lover of Light
That eye and sense be not fordone
E'en in the shade pursue the sun!
_______________________________
Excelsior
"How shall I reach the top?" No time
For thus reflecting! Start to climb!
__________________________________
For Consideration
A twofold pain is easier far to bear
Than one: so now to suffer wilt thou dare?
___________________________________
A Cure for Pessimism
Those old capricious fancies, friend!
You say your palate naught can please,
I hear you bluster, spit and wheeze,
My love, my patience soon will end!
Pluck up your courage, follow me--
Here's a fat toad! Now then, don't blink,
Swallow it whole, nor pause to think!
From your dyspepsia you'll be free!
___________________________________-
The Wanderer
"Now longer path! Abyss and silence chillings!"
Thy fault! To leave and path thou wast too willing!
Now comes the test! Keep cool -- eyes bright and clear!
Thou'rt lost for sure, if thou permittest--fear.
___________________________________
The Realistic Painter
"To nature true, complete!" so he begins.
Who complete Nature to his canvas wins?
Her tiniest fragment's endless, no constraint
CAn know: he paints just what his fancy pins:
What does his fancy pin? What he can paint! |
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| (no subject) |
[Feb. 13th, 2007|07:49 pm] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | losing my religion - REM | ] |
My mother's dog gave birth to 4 whelps yesterday at 2:00 am, Tuesday morning.
While three puppies wriggled with whimpering limbs, one of them, a brown little object, remained still.
I wasn't moved to sadness, but my sister's eyes secreted a few tears which put a weight on my conscience.
My mother asked me to bury it, so I went and grabbed ahold of a shovel and chose a spot by the side of the house for its burial site.
As I dug, my sister came outside with the pup wrapped in a white towel. She cradled it with a motherly tenderness, and swayed side to side, cooing soft words into its lifeless ears.
Once I'd finished, I told her to place it into the earthly tear.
I quickly covered the pit, and as I rubbed granules off my hands, my sister opened her eyes and asked if I could help her say a prayer.
I pondered what to say, but no words of profundity, or consolation came forth.
Just bland, banal pleadings, which my sister repeated and ended with an Amen.
It's a distressing question, but where'd my faith go? |
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| (no subject) |
[Feb. 8th, 2007|11:12 pm] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | History song - The Good, The Bad & The Queen | ] |
man would rather will nothingness than not will |
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| movies i need to check out |
[Jan. 23rd, 2007|10:25 pm] |
Amelie
An Andalusian Dog
A Scanner Darkly
2001: A Space Odyssey
2046
The 400 Blows
8½
After Hours
L'Âge d'Or
Andrei Rublev
The Apu Trilogy
Au Hasard Balthazar
American Beauty
L'Avventura
Barton Fink
Belle de Jour
Blowup
Blue Velvet
Breathless
Brokeback Mountain
Sympathy for Lady Vengeance
Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance
Peppermint Candy
Un chien andalou
Chungking Express
A Clockwork Orange
Close-up
The Company
The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover
The Cremaster Cycle
Days of Being Wild
Days of Heaven
The Decalogue
La Dolce Vita
Drawing Restraint 9
Akira Kurosawa's Dreams
L'eclisse
Elephant (film)
Eraserhead
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
The Fountain
Happy Together
Henry & June
High and Low
The Holy Mountain
The Hours
The Ice Storm
Ikiru
In the Mood for Love
La Jetée
Lost Highway
Love Me If You Dare
Magnolia
The Mirror
Mulholland Dr.
My Own Private Idaho
Nashville
Oldboy
Pan's Labyrinth
The Passion of Joan of Arc
Persona
The Pillow Book
Pink Floyd The Wall
Pulp Fiction
Raging Bull
Ran (film)
Rashomon
Requiem for a Dream
Russian Ark
The Science of Sleep
The Seventh Seal
Short Cuts
Solaris
Suite Habana
Taste of Cherry
Tokyo Story
Ugetsu
El Topo
Tropical Malady
Waking Life
Wild Strawberries
You all should try and see these movies |
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| EE Cummings |
[Jan. 17th, 2007|06:50 pm] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Street spirit(fade out)- Radiohead | ] |
I'm so impressed by these poems. It's incredible how he constructs each one; he uses such fine, delicate words.
If I have made, my lady, intricate
imperfect various things chiefly which wrong
your eyes (frailer than most deep dreams are frail)
songs less firm than your body's whitest song
upon my mind - if I have failed to snare
the glance too shy - if through my singing slips
the very skilful strangeness of your smile
the keen primeval silence of your hair
- let the world say "his most wise music stole
nothing from death" -
you will only create
(who are so perfectly alive) my shame:
lady whose profound and fragile lips
the sweet small clumsy feet of April came
into the ragged meadow of my soul.
-------------------------------------------------------
since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;
wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world
my blood approves,
and kisses are a far better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
--the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says
we are for each other: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph
And death i think is no parenthesis
------------------------------------------
here's to opening and upward, to leaf and to sap
and to your(in my arms flowering so new)
self whose eyes smell of the sound of rain
and here's to silent certainly mountains;and to
a disappearing poet of always,snow
and to morning;and to morning's beautiful friend
twilight(and a first dream called ocean)and
let must or if be damned with whomever's afraid
down with ought with because with every brain
which thinks it thinks,nor dares to feel(but up
with joy;and up with laughing and drunkenness)
here's to one undiscoverable guess
of whose mad skill each world of blood is made
(whose fatal songs are moving in the moon
-------------------------------------------
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
------------------------------
i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginably You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
------------------------------------
it may not always be so;and i say
that if your lips,which i have loved,should touch
another's,and your dear strong fingers clutch
his heart,as mine in time not far away;
if on another's face your sweet hair lay
in such a silence as i know,or such
great writhing words as,uttering overmuch,
stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;
if this should be,i say if this should be-
you of my heart,send me a little word;
that i may go unto him,and take his hands,
saying,Accept all happiness from me.
Then shall i turn my face,and hear one bird
sing terribly afar in the lost lands.
----------------------------------------
i love you much(most beautiful darling)
more than anyone on the earth and i
like you better than everything in the sky
-sunlight and singing welcome your coming
although winter may be everywhere
with such a silence and such a darkness
noone can quite begin to guess
(except my life)the true time of year-
and if what calls itself a world should have
the luck to hear such singing(or glimpse such
sunlight as will leap higher than high
through gayer than gayest someone's heart at your each
nearness)everyone certainly would(my
most beautiful darling)believe in nothing but love |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 25th, 2006|09:51 pm] |
And how have you all been?
I, myself, have meandered through the many streets of Miami, indulging in all its treats.
life's been a wild string of events; and although it's been delightful and broadening, my conscience aches to my throbbing temples.
I did well in school, so I'm heading up to Sarasota.
I'm so ecstatic...
Been reading Nietzsche, so hear's a few good quotes.
Man is a rope,
tied between beast and ubermensch --
a rope over an abyss.
A dangerous passing,
A dangerous looking back,
a dangerous shuddering and stopping.
I teach men
no longer bury one's head in the sand of heavenly things
bear it freely,
an earthly head which creates a meaning for the earth.
"Inexpressible and nameless is that which gives my soul agony and sweetness and is even the hunger of my entrails."
"Once you suffered passions and called them evil. But now you have only your virtues left: they grew out of your passions. You commended your highest goal to the heart of these passions: then they become your virtues and passions you enjoyed...in the end all your passions became virtues and all your devils, angels."
"As I am well disposed toward life, butterflies and soap bubbles and whatever among men is of their kind seem to know most oabout happiness. Seeing these light, foolish, delicate, mobile little souls flutter - that secudes Zarathustra to tear and songs."
"The more man aspires to the height and light, the more strongly do his roots strive earthward, downward, into the dark, the deep -- into evil!" |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 25th, 2006|09:24 pm] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Ize of the world - the strokes | ] |
The Strokes kick ass. |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 13th, 2006|10:18 am] |
SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 16th @ 7TH CIRCUIT STUDIOS: Moksha Family and Sustainable Recordings present EARTHDANCE. Earthdance is an international festival in celebration of world peace and in benefit of ECOMB, a non-profit organization dedicated to educating Miami-Dade's residents and visitors to adopt responsible environmental behaviors and to raise their awareness about our surrounding ecosystems. This event will be simulcast worldwide over the internet and features live performances by Suenalo, Locos Por Juana, Agape feat. Nadia Harris, Nag Champayons, Organicarma, and many more... Plus there will also be performance art, the DHM boys DJing, local art on display and a live painting by Sweat's pal LEBO!! Tickets $15 at the door or $10 in advance from Sweat Records, Uncle Sam's, Base or www.groovetickets.com. For more info check out earthdance.org or
myspace.com/earthdancesfl
It sounds like a pretty cool event. I'll hopefully see some of you there. |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 4th, 2006|01:55 pm] |
It is recognized that animals who have experienced abnormal laboratory environments from brith, such as extreme deprivation, loneliness or dull repetitive surroundings, tend to seek teh company of others who have had similar treatments. Urban ghettos increasingly fit this sad description.
Yatri |
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| The transmutation of Man and his thinking |
[Aug. 30th, 2006|12:33 pm] |
it is still tempting to see reality as our simple movie screens and televisions and our magazines; all confirming that the real world is like a photograph and we are separate onlookers.
New pictures are gradually emerging, however, of a reality which might be synchronous, or a constantly shifting holographic mosaic. The phenomenal world could be more like a vast thought field, which changes depending on how we look at it. Reality has been elevated from that of a fixed and static noun to a fluid, living verb.
If there is one material proof which confirms the divisive strategies of our mind it would surely be the invention of barbed wire.
Divisions only exist in the minds of men and on pieces of paper.
-Yatri |
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| memorandum |
[Aug. 23rd, 2006|07:07 pm] |
Vigorous writing is concise. A sentence should contain no unecessary words, a paragraph no unecessary sentences, for the same reason a painting should have no unecessary lines and a machine no unecessary parts. This requires not that the writer make all sentences short, or that he avoid all detail and treat his subject only in ouline, but that every word tell.
- William Strunk Jr. |
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| Hello middle class america |
[Aug. 23rd, 2006|05:17 pm] |
To a degree beyond the abilities of any other animal, we have put our enhanced cerebral capacities into the service of coordinating our responses to the outside world. By increasing our level of independence from the dangers of the environment, we have also heightened our oppourtunity to enjoy the fruits of that independence. Because it is not necessary to focus constantly on mere survival, our species is free to turn our attention to the quality of life and the development of personal relationships beyond those required for mutual saftey.
Sherwin B. Nuland |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 17th, 2006|03:12 pm] |
Life's about trade-offs, right? In exchange for this, i'll get this. We give up opportunities in hope of procurring something more beneficial.
It's funny how chimerical I am at times - well, it's more of a depressing realization than anything else.
The deterrent for idealists is disillusionment. In fact, I'm told by a good friend of mine, who, having already experienced most of life, that it's a recurring problem.
I'm currently undergoing a severe case of disillusionment.
I need to extricate myself from this streak of misfortune.
Why am I so incapable of doing what I need to? I literally can't afford to continue living in this fantasy. I've conjectured that it has something to do with my overarching self-confidence. But, I can't seem to accept how vulnerable I am.
An emerging thought, a thought I didn't expect, has been renewing itself - luridly, barely distinguishable.
It's annoying how limiting language is: we can express our thoughts with only so many words. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 14th, 2006|11:03 pm] |
Krishnamurti says:
Freedon is not a reaction; freedom is not choice. It is man's pretense that because he has choice he is free.
Freedom is pure observation without motive; freedom is not at the end of the evolution of man, but lies in the first step of his existence.
In observation one begins to discover the lack of freedom. Freedom is found in the choiceless awareness of our daily existence.
Not to record flattery or insult is to have a brain that is free, not burdened by a thousand records of a thousand yesterdays.
to find out what religion is, one must doubt the accepted thing, have the vitality, the strength, to wipe it out. One must question, doubt, wipe away all the structure put together by thought.
If a human being, you, has the intention, the drive, the energy, the passion to find out if there is something sacred, holy, to do that there must be no fear, there must be no sense of anxiety, there must be complete freedom. And that is meditiation.
So the brain must be absolutely quiet, not through control, not through following some method, system, not by cultivating slience. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 14th, 2006|11:57 am] |
Reality:
My body in its current state is insufficient. It is nowhere near as solid and nimble as it should be.
I now have the time to work on that, which i will.
I also want to improve my cardiovascular muscles. A jog in the daytime should improve my capacity. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 10th, 2006|08:58 pm] |
My mind is in a state of flux. Absorbing one's environment through what the senses permit seems insufficient; I feel overwhelmed at times by the intricacies presented in every situation. I'm vigilant to every occurrence:
I think I need therapy.
Drugs are a temporary fix; and I'm not intrigued by temporary alleviation.
I avidly try and crystallize my thoughts into an ultimate truth - maybe this is my downfall.
One thing I've learned to be of absolute necessity: Dependence should be solely on oneself, for all matters. |
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