"" ALMOST HOSANNA ""
I would like to depict a flow of thoughts , but dnt stigmatize that point of view .brotha . ;) There is truth, my boy. But the doctrine you desire, absolute, perfect dogma that alone provides wisdom, does not exist. Nor should you long for a perfect doctrine, my friend. Rather, you should long for the perfection of yourself. The deity is within you, not in ideas and books. Truth is lived, not taught.My life is music, and in some vague, mysterious and subconscious way, I have always been driven by a taut inner spring which has propelled me to almost compulsively reach for perfection in music, often - in fact, mostly - at the expense of everything else in my life.Geniuses don't become geniuses until they find the right moron to compare themselves to.This is for you , ' There is an ecstasy that marks the summit of life, and beyond which life cannot rise. And such is the paradox of living, this ecstasy comes when one is most alive, and it comes as a complete forgetfulness that one is alive. This ecstasy, this forgetfulness of living, comes to the artist, caught up and out of himself in a sheet of flame; it comes to the soldier, war-mad in a stricken field and refusing quarter; and it came to Buck, leading the pack, sounding the old wolf-cry, straining after the food that was alive and that fled swiftly before him through the moonlight.'
Tried be cheerful, tried be upbeat, tried not to let my feelings show, not to blame him, not to mind when day after day, week after week, that persons nonchalance eroded my heart. Sometimes, being an optimist was quite the fucking effort. Well ,lets drift the pace now , Friendship- my definition- is built on two things. Respect and trust. Both elements have to be there. And it has to be mutual. You can have respect for someone, but if you don't have trust, the friendship will crumble.I have met some highly intelligent believers, :P :P but history has no record to say that [s]he knew or understood the mind of god. Yet this is precisely the qualification which the godly must claim—so modestly and so humbly to possess. It is time to withdraw our 'respect' from such fantastic claims, all of them aimed at the exertion of power over other humans in the real and material world.
Sometimes,the mind can calculate, but the spirit yearns, and the heart knows what the heart knows.--> Tujhe dekha to yeh jana sanam (Indian song line) . ;) ---> [ dreams ] --> All problems are illusions of the mind . Again,sometimes sorry many times ,my envision kiss the globe of my dreams , and innocently declared like this -- > Let the heart carry on singing, you are my destination,I hope the night does not pass, I hope the day does not pass.
In my experience, the most staunchly held views are based on ignorance or accepted dogma, not carefully considered accumulations of facts. The more you expose the intricacies and realtities of the situation, the less clear-cut things become.I wondered why the head could move so swiftly while the heart dragged its feet.This was the start of a period that blurs as I try to recall it. Incidents seem to cascade and merge. Events become feelings, fellings become events. Head and heart are contrary historians.
Remember onething ella -- > The shape of my life is, of course, determined by many things; my background and childhood, my mind and its education, my conscience and its pressures, my heart and its desires.
Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me.The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again.You know ,yesterday evening i realized that thoughts are slippery fish in a cold shallow stream. If you are intent on capturing a worthwhile one, you need to stand very still, focus very hard on somewhere outside yourself, and then simply ignore it until it gets so close that it tickles your ankles.
Yes,this is true.Very true.I choose to write because it's perfect for me. It's an escape, a place I can go to hide. It's a friend, when I feel out casted from everyone else. It's a journal, when the only story I can tell is my own. It's a book, when I need to be somewhere else. It's control, when I feel so out of control. It's healing, when everything seems pretty messed up. And it's fun, when life is just flat-out boring then, pounce.I don't impressed if you're a religious person. I just wanna know about soul behind that mask.
When someone tells me "no," it doesn't mean I can't do it, it simply means I can't do it with them.Well, I always know what I want. And when you know what you want--you go toward it. Sometimes you go very fast, and sometimes only an inch a year. Perhaps you feel happier when you go fast. I don't know. I've forgotten the difference long ago, because it really doesn't matter, so long as you move.The moon looked like melted mozzarella to my bleary and blurry vision. Was I tired, intoxicated, or in love? Or was I sober, asleep, and alone?,Maybe the truth is, there's a little bit of loser in all of us. Being happy isn't having everything in your life be perfect. Maybe it's about stringing together all the little things.Again,this is for you ,The advantage of a bad memory is that one enjoys several times the same good things for the first time.Well,The only thing standing between you and your goal is the bullshit story you keep telling yourself as to why you can't achieve it. :P :P Bcoz A regime that wraps itself in the flag of truth fears truth most of all, for if its story is falsified to the slightest degree, its authority is gone.