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Monthly Archives: October 2011

Isn’t my heart holy, more full of life’s beauty,
since I fell in love? Why did you like me more
when I was prouder and wilder, more full
of words, yet emptier?

Well, the crowd likes whatever sells in the
marketplace; and no one but a slave
appreciates violent men. Only those who
are themselves godlike believe in the gods.



The wisest men follow their own direction.


Greek tragic dramatist (484 BC – 406 BC)

you want a god, because you are too weak

you need a god, to tell you what’s
right and wrong
just and unjust

you cant decide on your own
what is good and evil

the complexity of life is what makes it
so wonderous, so magnificient
so, livable

but all you want
is to be told, to be ruled!

you live in a Democracy
yet you have no idea on what it stands

you have no ethics

escape has never worked
yet you keep on trying

you are slaves, but you will never
let yourself be called one

yet if you will not change, then a
despot is what you need

Follower, knave, slave that is what you are!

what Ho! this is not thee…
then what proof shall ye bring to light?

contemplation will not help you here
only outward goals and action
can be of any use

what Ho! still nothing?…

then you are as i’ve stated…

you have no spirit, you have no truth,
you are simply a shell

you lust for commandment and nothing more

look around you what do you see?
do you see drones?
who mindlessly follow?
who don’t question?

well to question you have to have questions…

yet again slave,
you have no creativity, no imagination
you couldnt possibly begin to question

you excludeth people from your groups,
all because you know not what you are
and you fathom you are better

this sheer lack of sight
excludes you from ever entering the real world,
of ever seeing reality, as YOUR reality!

will you be able to see…
that everything you do matters?

you’ll never see how bored you wouldnt be
if you includeth the other

if you can say “ignorance is bliss” and
truly understand, what it means,
by bringing it home through experience
then you are in for the ride of your life!

cause now the real world commenceth
now you will grow, now you will see
now you will be!

O! Life! the Giver, the Taker!

giveth your trials, giveth your tests,
giveth your suffering, giveth your uncertainty!

taketh fear, taketh ignorance,
taketh certainty,

taketh my love
so I may die happy!


and thou shalt find
what is truly divine!



As every flower fades and as all youth
Departs, so life at every stage,
So every virtue, so our grasp of truth,
Blooms in its day and may not last forever.
Since life may summon us at every age
Be ready, heart, for parting, new endeavor,
Be ready bravely and without remorse
To find new light that old ties cannot give.
In all beginnings dwells a magic force
For guarding us and helping us to live.
Serenely let us move to distant places
And let no sentiments of home detain us.

The Cosmic Spirit seeks not to restrain us
But lifts us stage by stage to wider spaces.
If we accept a home of our own making,
Familiar habit makes for indolence.
We must prepare for parting and leave-taking
Or else remain the slave of permanence.
Even the hour of our death may send
Us speeding on to fresh and newer spaces,
And life may summon us to newer races.
So be it, heart: bid farewell without end.

Hermann Hesse, The Glass Bead Game.

“For as soon as the distribution of labour comes into being, each man has a particular, exclusive sphere of activity, which is forced upon him and from which he cannot escape. He is a hunter, a fisherman, a herdsman, or a critical critic, and must remain so if he does not want to lose his means of livelihood; while in communist society, where nobody has one exclusive sphere of activity but each can become accomplished in any branch he wishes, society regulates the general production and thus makes it possible for me to do one thing today and another tomorrow, to hunt in the morning, fish in the afternoon, rear cattle in the evening, criticise after dinner, just as I have a mind, without ever becoming hunter, fisherman, herdsman or critic.”


Karl Marx: from The German Ideology.

Psychoanalysis is a technique to cure excessively suffering in-
dividuals ofthe unconsciously misdirected desires and hostilities
that weave around them their private webs of unreal terrors and
ambivalent attractions; the patient released from these finds
himself able to participate with comparative satisfaction in the
more realistic fears, hostilities, erotic and religious practices,
business enterprises, wars, pastimes, and household tasks
offered to him by his particular culture. But for the one who has
deliberately undertaken the difficult and dangerous journey be-
yond the village compound, these interests, too, are to be re-
garded as based on error. Therefore the aim of the religious
teaching is not to cure the individual back again to the general
delusion, but to detach him from delusion altogether; and this
not by readjusting the desire (eras) and hostility (tkanatos) — for
that would only originate a new context of delusion-but by ex-
tinguishing the impulses to the very root, according to the
method ofthe celebrated Buddhist Eightfold Path: 

Right Belief, Right Intentions, 

Right Speech, Right Actions, 

Right Livelihood, Right Endeavoring, 

Right Mindfulness, Right Concentration. 

With the final "extirpation of delusion, desire, and hostility"
(Nirvana) the mind knows that it is not what it thought: thought
goes. The mind rests in its true state. And here it may dwell
until the body drops away. 

Stars, darkness, a lamp, a phantom, dew, a bubble,
A dream, a flash of lightning, and a cloud: 

Thus we should look upon all that was made. "

Joseph Campbell : The Hero with a Thousand Faces
Fear is an instructor of great sagacity, and 
the herald of all revolutions. One thing he always 
teaches, that there is rottenness where he appears. 
He is a carrion crow, and though you see not well 
what he hovers for, there is death somewhere. Our 
property is timid, our laws are timid, our cultivated 
classes are timid. Fear for ages has boded and 
mowed and gibbered over government and property. 
That obscene bird is not there for nothing. He in- 
dicates great wrongs which must be revised. 

R.W. Emerson
From: "Compensation"
But there is another way — in diametric opposition to that of
social duty and the popular cult. From the standpoint of the way
of duty, anyone in exile from the community is a nothing. From
the other point of view, however, this exile is the first step of the
quest. Each carries within himself the all; therefore it may be
sought and discovered within. The differentiation's of sex, age,
and occupation are not essential to our character, but mere cos-
tumes which we wear for a time on the stage of the world. The
image of man within is not to be confounded with the garments.
We think of ourselves as Americans, children of the twentieth
century, Occidentals, civilized Christians. We are virtuous or sin-
ful. Yet such designations do not tell what it is to be man, they
denote only the accidents of geography, birth-date, and income.
What is the core of us? What is the basic character of our being?

The asceticism of the medieval saints and of the yogis of
India, the Hellenistic mystery initiations, the ancient philoso-
phies of the East and of the West, are techniques for the shifting
of the emphasis of individual consciousness away from the gar-
ments. The preliminary meditations of the aspirant detach his
mind and sentiments from the accidents of life and drive him to
the core. "I am not that, not that," he meditates: "not my mother
or son who has just died; my body, which is ill or aging; my
arm, my eye, my head; not the summation of all these things. I
am not my feeling; not my mind; not my power of intuition. " By
such meditations he is driven to his own profundity and breaks
through, at last, to unfathomable realizations. No man can re-
turn from such exercises and take very seriously himself as Mr.
So-an-so of Such-and-such a township, U.S.A. — Society and du-
ties drop away. Mr, So-and-so, having discovered himself big
with man, becomes indrawn and aloof.

Joseph Campbell "The Hero with a Thousand Faces"