Please note I meant to quote that wonderful piece of writing.
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Please note I meant to quote that wonderful piece of writing.
Her fingers hurt from too much care.
You saw her, at the train station.
She was buying tickets with her last 40 dollars.
Love devoured all of her face.
The child was close behind, restless.
Lovely child, without a care.
Superman is real, and kangaroos can fly.
I saw that woman and wondered how she did what she did.
But love devoured all of my face.
Do we notice beauty?
It's a real question.
It's in the leaf that falls.
It falls and takes shape.
And there you are, all self-important.
More important than the leaf, which falls.
Where the man fails to notice another he fails to notice himself.
The other is talking of his woes and cares, how quickly they envelop him.
He's drowning while the other man is looking at his watch.
Sound intermission
cigarette in the turnstile
stationary since
Habits mine to feign
passport stamps for arranging
the mind entertained
I'll know something soon
distant elasticity
an epiphany
Loosened like a thread
undoing just a little
but now more needs more
luckily we move
slaving to a timetable
saving from ourselves
Fretting? Don't bother
it's your provocative mind
philosophising
While the other is talking words inhabit your mind and it's selfish.
But you can't help that, it's what you've always done.
Rarely have you listened without your self-involvement.
You were taught all this.
Self-centeredness is the formation of society with envy as the sideshow.
Rarely can you put yourself aside, the all important you.
If ever you can, it's wonderful. How rare those moments are when the me is not the thing.
Contraindications:
Don't you ever suppose you are not the put together.
Don't you ever think it came from another.
Don't you ever cry it was not me.
Don't you ever say you are not free.
And then we look at the facts, the what is going on.
You're operating on influence.
You're crying from the herd.
You're an offside of genetics.
You're not original or intelligent.
There must be a reason you are what you are.
You say hey, not so deep.
This is not deep.
This is the same old leash a dog strangles on.
There's so much more than this. I don't know how much. So much more.
But we need a quiet untroubled mind.
Not one tethered to habit and routine and stupidity.
Not one bound to words.
No beliefs, those silly things.
The foundation is hard to put on the ground.
I liked the part about the leash the dog strangles on, jajdude.
YesNo, I won't take credit for that. I'd give a bit of this to J. that is Jiddhu Krishnamurti, an influence.
A lot of this is weak poetry or weak philosophy, but these are just words.
The analogy was that the mind is like a dog on a leash, or it could be a record playing over and over, as you can see in yourself, the routine, and how dull it is.
Creatures of habit, and where we like our routines and the security that brings us.
The fact is, and this never stops amazing me, how insecure the human being is, no matter how rich or attractive.
When you spoke of yourself as belonging
to a group, your community, your region,
your nationality, your whatever,
was that a longing to be a somebody,
anybody, a whoever,
and when you died for that belonging
did you suppose it had a meaning
beyond the nonsense the tribe had told you?
Follow up: The tribe has told you nonsense, imagine that.
Anyone who cannot stand alone is lost.
What has the tribe told you, and who are they?
Imagine in the woods a tree who tells the other trees to be still, or blow when the wind comes.
So the wind comes, as it must, and it is strong.
You follow that wind and the dust.
It's fun and let's go with that.
I like this wind and I like this dust.
I'm caught.
What can I do?
I see this wind and I see this dust.
There's nothing I can do.
I watch this wind, and I watch this dust.
I'm not part of it.
To Dylan:
Writer of many a great song.
I fear your time may not be long.
Most people don't meet the image of success or happy because few people are, and those who are don't the meet the image.
The happy people are burdened with work and family and too busy to think of the images.
I'm not sure how happy most of them are either. I think they are happier than the images though, who look miserable to me.
Isn't it a shame we need invocations and salutations to meet a semblance of harmony?
Songs call to racial harmony and commercials divide the sexes.
Was there a division to begin with, without the intervention of idea?
The interruption of idea has corrupted our unity.
There was unity to begin with, then we got clever and stupid.
It's tiresome.
Now we're trying to patch stuff together with rainbows and farts.
Not the still mind. That which knows it was all nonsense to start with.
Funny how easily the train of thought is derailed.
It was threadbare to begin with, and it was best left unclothed.
What a boring creature, this detailer of thought is.
You grow sick of it, so we all do.
It outlines your inadequacies and brags about your hurts.
Then it comes right on back, brand new, full of beans.
Hey there, thought again, got something new and special for ya!
Go away, thought!
Only, thought is what you are.