I’ve no use for steel anymore;
to attack or defend.
Soft skin, thick blood and a strong spine.
That’s all I need.
I won’t retreat or withdraw.
I won’t hide.
I’ll expand and extend
I’ll connect and transcend;
see the world with new eyes.
Head floating ‘twixt the clouds
feet firmly on the ground:
I’ll be a giant — only human-sized.
giant
The future is unknown and the past is not a blueprint of it. All there is is now: being present in the world, taking it all in - whether pleasant or painful; rolling the dice and moving on.
Memento mori et carpe diem.
“To love means to open ourselves to the negative as well as the positive - to grief, sorrow, and disappointment as well as to joy, fulfillment, and an intensity of consciousness we did not know was possible before.”
— Rollo May, existential psychologist
On asceticism
A new-found asceticism is to be discovered in balance. A balanced life does not attract attention, and is often thought of as boring or mediocre. Moderation through choice, however, is not mediocrity. The man with negligible limits who still chooses to moderate his passions and yet still be kind and thoughtful to himself is one who manages to find the fine line between military discipline and tame, gentle wisdom.
∞“If any art is devoid of lessons, it is certainly music. It is too closely related to mathematics not to have borrowed their gratuitousness. That game the mind plays with itself according to set and measured laws takes place in the sonorous compass that belongs to us and beyond which the vibrations nevertheless meet in an inhuman universe. There is no purer sensation.”
— Albert Camus, The Myth Of Sisyphus
“My dear, in the midst of hate, I found there was, within me, an invincible love. In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile. In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm. I realized through it all, that… In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.”
— Albert Camus
“I would traverse not once more, but often the hell of my inner being. One day I would be a better hand at the game. One day I would learn how to laugh.”
— Herman Hesse - Steppenwolf
Something I wrote about three years ago.
It is quite strange, I must say; being an old soul in young flesh.
It feels like serving penance for seven lifetimes past. Not allowed to abandon all that is life or to sleepily let go and rest in Charon’s cold embrace, one is forced to suffer passion, hope, youth, experience and disappointment.
Another way to put it would be like this: wanting to sleep under the summer sun, resting cosily within the shadow of a tall, old, thick-leaved tree, only to be awoken every five minutes from the poke of a tiny grinning devil’s scorching trident. It is my assumption that a great part of those who have died young must have experienced the same anguish and hopelessness. I imagine death to have been the sweetest, most soothing balm for their old, tired souls.
I began life with the highest, most absolute expectations and a fire quenched only by creation. Destruction and disconnection were my only friends thereafter, while I satisfied my pessimistic, misanthropic high. It is only as of late that I have come to entertain the idea that perhaps my only purpose in this life is neither to create nor to destroy, but to reflect, disprove and improve; to remain in the shadows, observe and let my judgement echo through the minds of others.
Only two decades and a half in this cloak made of flesh, my spirit grumbles with a century-old voice. Bright-eyed with excitement facing the unknown, yet burdened by wisdom that would put sages to shame. Fully aware of my insignificance, bearing the strongest confidence in my potential, I take a seat beside the busy flow of life and wait to see how far the ripples of my will shall resonate.
I sign in wonder and despair.
- Hermes
“
Negative space. Rhythmic pauses. Pensive silence. Friendships ended. Loves forgotten. Mistakes avoided. Offers denied.
What we discard and omit speaks just as loud as what we do and what we include.
”— personal aphorism
