(Rambling nonsense ahead):
The psychological state of the heart and soul can effect - and infect - the mind as well. Here are the conditions of a human, wild heart, depending on inner and outer life circumstances (or trauma):
Heart of Tears - Overtly feeling inside and out. Expressing sensitivity.
Heart of Steel - Deliberately blocking feeling. An illusion of strength.
Heart of Ice - Unintentionally unfeeling, not by choice. Must be understood in order to melt.
Heart of Mud - Muddled, clotted, easily influenced, lonely for light and soul.
Heart of Crystal - Clear, understanding, but not yet free.
Heart of Wind and Fire - Free, orderly, nourishing daily and nightly. Healing in effect by way of action.
Heart of Fog - Confused, lost, in between wondering with a purpose and looking directionless.
Peace seems an impossible concept - for no single individual can think, feel and act truly like another. It might only be achieved by eradicating free will, when viewed and analyzed in that way. But love, understanding, respect, and/or empathy for one another can be achieved, if we give these human trials a chance. Through hard work and perseverance.
Thursday, 11 February 2016
Scribble #13
Life should not be made into bullet points.
Place your trust in those who have earned it, and have earned a place in your loving and wise soul.
Always remember, and remain in close, loving contact with, those who have helped you to get up, go on and achieve your dreams.
Spare a loving thought - and hug - for those who are happy you were born.
The phrase, "Time out of mind", doesn't mean very vague and unspecific. It just means that an idea or story has been so powerful and so impressive (and still so relevant), that it has lasted through everything that mankind has been throwing at it since it was first told. And since before we knew how to record time.
Couples, clueless about solitary life, come to cafes a lot. Must be nice.
I may not have powers, but I'm not powerless.
I feel like Sleeping Beauty, only not so beautiful.
Everywhere, in any place, there lives an angel.
Thoughts are always swimming in my mind, surfacing, flying over water, not underwater.
I listen, absorb and carry around and create stories in my mind, body, heart and soul, like a sage, a prophet. A moon mage.
Place your trust in those who have earned it, and have earned a place in your loving and wise soul.
Always remember, and remain in close, loving contact with, those who have helped you to get up, go on and achieve your dreams.
Spare a loving thought - and hug - for those who are happy you were born.
The phrase, "Time out of mind", doesn't mean very vague and unspecific. It just means that an idea or story has been so powerful and so impressive (and still so relevant), that it has lasted through everything that mankind has been throwing at it since it was first told. And since before we knew how to record time.
Couples, clueless about solitary life, come to cafes a lot. Must be nice.
I may not have powers, but I'm not powerless.
I feel like Sleeping Beauty, only not so beautiful.
Everywhere, in any place, there lives an angel.
Thoughts are always swimming in my mind, surfacing, flying over water, not underwater.
I listen, absorb and carry around and create stories in my mind, body, heart and soul, like a sage, a prophet. A moon mage.
Scribble #12
Comfort is great. But without adventure, endurance, pain, suffering, loss, sacrifice, change, or any kind of journeying and soul searching, we won't recognise comfort as such. And we surely cannot stay in one place of comfort for too long, otherwise what will we learn in life? About ourselves and our own strengths and capacities?
Life is like a pendulum. It swings in one direction and then the other, depending on inner and outer workings. But if you focus too intently on this moving yet directionless time recorder, you may become hypnotized; and sleepwalk so much through life that even if the pendulum stops moving and is in dead center, you may barely notice.
A story filled with love, heart, integrity, trained and worked-for-teachings, suffering, endurance, and understanding of the needs of a nourishing soul - this story is, like a person, worth telling respectfully, and worth remembering for thousands of generations, as long as the earth moves and lives.
Life is like a pendulum. It swings in one direction and then the other, depending on inner and outer workings. But if you focus too intently on this moving yet directionless time recorder, you may become hypnotized; and sleepwalk so much through life that even if the pendulum stops moving and is in dead center, you may barely notice.
A story filled with love, heart, integrity, trained and worked-for-teachings, suffering, endurance, and understanding of the needs of a nourishing soul - this story is, like a person, worth telling respectfully, and worth remembering for thousands of generations, as long as the earth moves and lives.
Scribble #11
"Please guns, please stop. I'm waiting for the shooting to stop. I don't dare to breathe - make them think I'm dead. What have we done to make you want us dead? Guns are everywhere and nameless, just like the people of the public going about our day. We are alike in that way. So why shoot at us? We are nameless and faceless to you. The only enemies are the ones who handle you, who use you. Am I dead? I feel dead. Dead to the world. The world is dead. Where is my family? I'm alone in the dead world.
Silence. At last."
Misogyny, sexism, racism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, xenophobia, classism - all types of prejudice and bigotry come from a similar, distinguished root. The root of the problem is that the privileged want the entitlement they feel they have to treat marginalised or "other, lesser" groups of people however they want and not fear any reprimands. What they do fear more than anything is change, a revolution. They do not wish to share their privilege and fair treatment by society, and get extremely, irrationally protective of it. Something - a big part of their easier lives - will be taken away, they think. They stubbornly remain part of the very human problem of the invisible groups of people struggling for survival and respect - which the dominant classes themselves started and from which they reap the benefits without even consciously realising it. We only live in one world, and we are all human; different and unique in so many ways. Let's all share, care and love each other for it.
Hatred is destructive. It destroys, takes away and consumes everything, leaving nothing left within and without oneself but emptiness. Rage is an evil weapon with no satisfaction. But love is giving, nurturing, caring, listening, understanding, and forgiving - there us no shortage of love on earth. It is a pure, untarnished cycle that gives and takes, goes up and down, and never runs out and leaves a drought, causing emptiness. Love is the ultimate fulfilment.
Wednesday, 10 February 2016
Scribble #10
There are nuns in the cafe. And babies. And people in winter jumpers. The elderly. The adolescents. The relaxed. The sipping of teas. The endless chatting. There are as many people in this dim but animated stop as there is food and drink. The music is terrible, but the chatter and the baristas pouring in the beverages easily drown out that noise.
Tea, coffee, nuns. Tea, coffee, love. Tea, coffee, monster. Tea, coffee, cake? Truly the cafe is the most social of places to sit and recollect. No need for beats; only beans.
Cappuccino. Nut cake. Comfy seats. Soul music (the good music). Coke bottles and glasses, and coffee with the froth building up on top. A little piece of heaven in every cafe.
I love the library. To me it is synonymous with heaven. The quiet, the respect, the levels upon levels of endless reading material. Chances are you will find what you are looking for, even if you yourself don't know it yet, and, as always in life, it is found where you will least expect it to be. Buying books is fun, but borrowing them asks for no money and barely your time - it is the place to be free. Lost and then found, thy name is library. Please, please don't let it fall, don't let this sanctuary die. It will always be like a second home to me, myself and I.
Relax. Read a good book. Or bad book, whatever your tastes and opinions. Any book is magical, and can be found in any magical, labyrinthine place and space. A space of knowledge. Books have power, and light, so never underestimate a library - the most powerful and fully-realised of all space and time occupation.
Books and libraries and book shops are like trees; they grow and grow and become firmer and sturdier in age, and more relevant in time. We need these things to live in and understand this world; to make it a better place for everyone. Try to burn them down, there will always be seeds left to grow back - seeds of ideas, of the past, materials needed to start humanity on the right track to knowledge and preservation once again. A circle of paper and tools. A cycle of the written word.
(The little library cafe is nice too. At least the music's better.)
Why is there a table and two chairs smack in the middle of the shopping mall? Can I sit and write on the table? Big spaces with few people feel and look empty no matter what. No good smells or sounds or anything. Or tastes.
Tea, coffee, nuns. Tea, coffee, love. Tea, coffee, monster. Tea, coffee, cake? Truly the cafe is the most social of places to sit and recollect. No need for beats; only beans.
Cappuccino. Nut cake. Comfy seats. Soul music (the good music). Coke bottles and glasses, and coffee with the froth building up on top. A little piece of heaven in every cafe.
I love the library. To me it is synonymous with heaven. The quiet, the respect, the levels upon levels of endless reading material. Chances are you will find what you are looking for, even if you yourself don't know it yet, and, as always in life, it is found where you will least expect it to be. Buying books is fun, but borrowing them asks for no money and barely your time - it is the place to be free. Lost and then found, thy name is library. Please, please don't let it fall, don't let this sanctuary die. It will always be like a second home to me, myself and I.
Relax. Read a good book. Or bad book, whatever your tastes and opinions. Any book is magical, and can be found in any magical, labyrinthine place and space. A space of knowledge. Books have power, and light, so never underestimate a library - the most powerful and fully-realised of all space and time occupation.
Books and libraries and book shops are like trees; they grow and grow and become firmer and sturdier in age, and more relevant in time. We need these things to live in and understand this world; to make it a better place for everyone. Try to burn them down, there will always be seeds left to grow back - seeds of ideas, of the past, materials needed to start humanity on the right track to knowledge and preservation once again. A circle of paper and tools. A cycle of the written word.
(The little library cafe is nice too. At least the music's better.)
Why is there a table and two chairs smack in the middle of the shopping mall? Can I sit and write on the table? Big spaces with few people feel and look empty no matter what. No good smells or sounds or anything. Or tastes.
Tuesday, 9 February 2016
Scribble #9
It is blue and cold. Any colour and mood can be cold, really. I am an imperfect perfectionist.
Be a writer of the wrongs in life. Be a wronger of the so-called rules in writing.
The world is not a toy, nor is it toy-sized. Though some of us play it like it is.
You can't spell the word 'hero' without the word 'her'.
Old diaries are like old friends. When you meet them, you catch up and bring up old memories.
Man stares intently at his bus ticket...
Be a writer of the wrongs in life. Be a wronger of the so-called rules in writing.
The world is not a toy, nor is it toy-sized. Though some of us play it like it is.
You can't spell the word 'hero' without the word 'her'.
Old diaries are like old friends. When you meet them, you catch up and bring up old memories.
Man stares intently at his bus ticket...
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