Saturday, September 15, 2007

begins it

HALT!
drop everything you perceive as
true and objective,
right now.......... #@!$%&?
and set a blank sheet of crisp linen.


Be idealistic..
imperialistic, and ever so aggravatingly skeptic - like me =]

Shhh! Be quiet, listen, and you might hear it: a silent screaming echoing through the emptiness.

Everything can be seen as a word. We have to look at the right words, in our own dictionary. And if one chooses to start seeing everything as words, their words - well - then it only be natural that meaning will subsequently follow.


What is seen intolerable at first, will then show up everywhere, and thus lead to the gradual seeping into society’s fluid, mixing in and setting in as the catalyst for the unspeakable.
It is in my notion that, all that we claim to be ugly now, will, in turn, emerge glorious again. The world, it will then leisurely rekindle itself, emanating it‘s familiar, majestic- brilliantly unfathomable- all so very august and horrendous beauty.

Common sense is for common people. With ideas there are no limitations to only commonalities, for me, there are no senses-only perception- only the mind, only for the ideas.... Yee


"It is a dark, cool, quiet place. A basement in your soul. And that place can sometimes be dangerous to the human mind. I can open the door and enter that darkness, but I have to be very careful. I can find my story there. Then I bring that thing to the surface, into the real world." -Haruki Murakami

"Just because someone says it's art, does it make it art?
The right people..
and who are they..?"
- Mona Lisa Smiles


kick, turn, swivel squat down and shoot up, up, and away!

I think, therefore I am
writing, writers, writes. read, reading, i've read.
haruki murakami,jack kerouac, and aldous huxley.


Booming
flowing out of the lines
onto the blankness
seeping beneath my skin

"Once we are destined to live out our lives in the prison of our mind, our duty is to furnish it well." -Peter Ustinov


"It exists, because our ideas perceive so.
Only the ideas we directly perceive are real,
there are no material objects."
- David Hume
moi? something, sumthin, de jour
i like tunes: like that theme song to buffy the vampire slayer, the final countdown, rocketman, white rabbit, and much more.Anything else? Anything more? ... it's all there. just think. :cool: I would like to think that all of my interactions trail a minuscule, if not, deeply seeded, lingering remark- I mean- that's my intent anyway. I'll lend you one of my pens- but all the glorious lines, words.. transcending art- whatever creation that emanates from it, its gotta be you. Foster a feeling, and devour it to what seems appetizing, and let it nourish impending thoughts. For me, I speak to listen- not to my own voice- but to whomever is willingly listening. Talking , I think--No- Any communication! in any way, shape or form; sharing in retrospect, borrowing ideas, transcending your own memory : they're all fuel for burning. The only fuel that ignites us. The past, that's the fuel, that's what we run on, that's what urges us to communicate: to ourselves, to the world, to the infinite- never ending thoughts. We've to only sit down, and wander. Borrow a thought, like if somebody tossed a seed onto fresh soil, like borrowing that act and then examine it, nurture it, make it ones own plant. Water it, feed it the right fertile, and allow the sun to seep into it's roots, so all darkness can be floundered out. Grow, grow, grow. Develop, flourish, into something gallant, go and be like some brilliant light shining off a first place ribbon, of a flower arranging competition. Grow a beanstalk! skylining, of course, and fight off the giant on top. What I mean is: someone lend me a pen.

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