Absolute disaster

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Everyone wants you to join their cadre of odd fellows or team building activities. Everything around is constantly changing and wants you to engage in the show.

But passivity, individual shame, vulnerability ,solitary contemplation explore the condition of humanity more than the pride of mankind, belonging, balance of power within the group, the hateful, belligerent, modding, exited functioning that give you comfort.

War and peace

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“I don’t like watching the show of human lowness, it repulses me sitting like a judge or a spectator, watching men go down the last steps of abjection: I always fear that they turn back and smile at me.”

“I already see my body carried away by people who blaspheme who are angry with me”.

“I invite you to travel in that country that looks so much like you. The languid suns of its clouded skies they have enchantment for my spirit of your eyes when they shine dim.”

Come as maple leaves

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Come, said my Soul
Such verses for my Body let us write, (for we are one,)
That should I after death invisibly return,
Or, long, long hence, in other spheres,
There to some group of mates the chants resuming,
(Tallying Earth’s soil, trees, winds, tumultuous waves,)
Ever with pleas’d smiles I may keep on,
Ever and ever yet the verses owning — as, first, I here and now,
Signing for Soul and Body, set to them my name,
Walt Whitman

Sandalwood

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You were asleep. I wake you.
The vast morning brings the illusion of a beginning.
You had forgotten Virgil. Here are the hexameters.
I bring you many things—
the four Greek elements: earth, water, fire, air;
a single name of a woman;
the friendship of the moon;
the bright colors of the atlas;
forgetting, which purifies;
memory, which chooses and rediscovers;
the habits which help us feel we are immortal;
the sphere and the hands that measure elusive time;
the fragrance of sandalwood;
the doubts that we call, not without some vanity, metaphysics;
the curve of the walking stick the hand anticipates;
the taste of grapes and of honey

Jorge Luis Borges

A breach in

Open air highways planning for the future, the deeply paved path with real sidewalks maintain the illusion. Immovable guardians of order, last ramparts, legends and false memories relieve a little of the past. Search for a breach disappeared from the cameras, lost in specialized areas. Slipping through an impenetrable forest.

The infinite present

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Every hug meets a battle

Looking away is no longer new

Conquest puts in pieces

Don’t continue the building

Neither high nor low

Approach the beginnings to their ends

Reduce the sail so that nothing advance

Time is insatiable

Restart

Take a bit of yesterday loss

Disappear behind a summit

Everything in exactly the same place

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“As someone said to me–I can’t remember now who it was–it is really remarkable that when you wake up in the morning you nearly always find everything in exactly the same place as the evening before. For when asleep and dreaming you are, apparently at least, in an essentially different state from that of wakefulness; and therefore, as that man truly said, it requires enormous presence of mind or rather quickness of wit, when opening your eyes to seize hold as it were of everything in the room at exactly the same place where you had let it go on the previous evening. That was why, he said, the moment of waking up was the riskiest moment of the day. Once that was well over without deflecting you from your orbit, you could take heart of grace for the rest of the day.”

Franz Kafka

Perhaps four or five times more

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“Death is always on the way, but the fact that you don’t know when it will arrive seems to take away from the finiteness of life. It’s that terrible precision that we hate so much. But because we don’t know, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that’s so deeply a part of your being that you can’t even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four or five times more. Perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless. ” Paul Bowles,