thinking about all the different ways to think
is a valuable skill
If I think about all the things
I could think
of things I’ve thought or think
I think about
how thinking is a valuable skill
Fuck The Poor
What does it mean to be fucked? Are the poor fucked? How can the poor be fucked?
Help The Poor
What does it mean to be helped? Are the poor helped? How can the poor be helped?
It’s the moment that draws me in,
seeing the diamond in the rough,
to the madness.
How can you be sure,
for which you’re seeing,
is being seen,
and not saw?
I struggle with needing a then,
in order to see the now.
Can we speak of what we see,
instead of what we saw?.
I tie myself up with all the things I untie,
I wrap myself up with all the things I unwrap,
Each moment seen is a diamond,
Each moment saw is rough,
What is poetry?
Writing slows thoughts down,
slowing down thinking,
"… what was normal for a child is improper in an adult."
—C. G. Jung, Collected Works 8
A man sits in the kitchen of his sprawling Seattle home and addresses a letter: “To Boddah” (Cross 339). Using a fine-tipped red marker, the man writes about the mysterious, chronic pain in his stomach, the loss of enthusiasm he feels toward his work, and his frustrated urge to lead a passionate, authentic life free of compromise. He calls himself a “sad little sensitive, unappreciative, Pisces, Jesus man!” and reminds those he leaves behind that “its better to burn out than to fade away.” In one sentence, the man claims that he simply “loves people too much,” while in another that he has become “hateful towards all humans in general.” In an aside to his wife and infant daughter, the man apologizes for the act he is about to commit and writes the words “I love you” in letters twice as big as the rest. He begs his family not to follow him and promises them that when they need him, he will be “at their alter.” The man signs the letter with three simple words: “Peace, Love,” and “Empathy” (Cross 339). Removing a hidden panel from his bedroom closet, the man pulls out a Remington shotgun and a case of shells. Retreating to his greenhouse, he sits on the cold tile floor where, removing the letter from his coat pocket, he stabs it through with the red marker and lets it dangle from a bag of potting soil. After a final drag on his cigarette and a final sip from a can of root beer, the man injects himself with a double dose of heroin, places the shotgun in his mouth, and pulls the trigger (Cross 341).http://handsomerube.tumblr.com/post/81793080240/puer-aeternus-and-the-suicidal-urge-by-dustin
A beginning is the time for taking the most delicate care that the balances are correct.Frank Herbert — Dune
Am I making an unfair request of you?
Never mind the manner, which may or may not be good;
but THINK ONLY OF THE TRUTH OF MY WORDS,
and give heed to that:
let the speaker speak truly
and the judge decide justly.
When you say something really unkind, when you do something in retaliation your anger increases. You make the other person suffer, and he will try hard to say or to do something back to get relief from his suffering. That is how conflict escalates.Thích Nhất Hạnh