Thursday, January 21, 2010
Wading through the Goody-goody drama
Such sheep, bleeting on mental cue; shuddering at whatever abstracted fear they are fed. They look at themselves as "the good", "the flock". In fact, they are the manipulated of consensus. They are so conformed that non-conformity is incomprehensible. Their conformity is part of a social cowardice in which the constituents homogenize themselves so not to stand out and be the object of negative scrutiny. They have long sought refuge in the acceptance of others so not to be of those numbered on the margins. Inspite of their moral timidity, they find strength in being part of this scared flock of the fearing and the fear-mongerers. They as individuals and as a group are more dangerous than the subjects of their purely abstracted fears that are based on their conformity of individual moral neuterings.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Beyond the bubble of Sentiment
Or was it not being held and living through the angsts of insecurities? Sounds like something closer to the life's story. If there is seemingly never the external comforting affirmation, then what do you do. Give up or push on?
For those things that became a priority and imperative you pushed on, even to the point of feeling-if not for the alternatives-that you're on a "fool's errand". The physical, intellectual, or emotional embracing that was NOT part of my upbringing eventually becomes part of the regimen of discipline of doing without in being without. What was conspicuous by its absence becomes the forger of character and purpose.
That which was and is repudiated in you by others, becomes the "Cause celebre". That irrepressible aesthetic which status and privilege did NOT have to engage, by choice, became the siren call for your narrative. Because that call was kept stored away, husbanded, and planted in the recesses of your thoughts it found its moment, meaning and purpose as events unfolded.
I exist now in an anonymity I was trained to disdain and avoid. But in this anonymity I have found my humanity and peace of integrity. I did not sell-out "my lying eyes", my dreams, my gut instincts. I may have strayed, but never so far that I was not able to find my way back or learn to know what would become the evermore desirable way.
This is a struggle with principalities and their tangible manisfestations in the pettiness, provinciality, and mandarin-orthodoxy of men. It is an improbable and incredible narrative that could never be told to anyone but the few who have crossed or walked along this path. No matter what is presented as a mundane or reductionist description
of this journey, it is one that in its living, not its analysis would you know, beable to comprehend, or conceive of it.
Was I mad(e) for this life or was this life mad(e) for me? Temporally and mundanely, I'd have to admit that I was and AM mad at this life, BECAUSE this life seems to be mad at ME. Having said that, I may have been made, even commissioned, for this life. Having been temporally the estranged from the preferences and aesthetics of my contemporaries, there has been, mostly, and acknowledged tolerance, and a utilitarian, materialistic pragmatism to my participation. It was that way because, it was the only game indoctrinated into my training and ~learning~.
As events unfolded, I became aware of being not just a witness of a poetic, sublime, judgment, but the sign and marker of its advent-though the subjects of the judgement never knew it was happening because they were deaf, dumb, and blind by the hubris of their own temporal or secular smugness.
Being an existential instrument with no-to-little social or economic standing provides a surreal view of life. It's like watching yourself in a dream. It's you the shell, but not you the consciousness or emotion. Whatever sentiment that I have is for an operational and existential objective for a more sublime, supra-temporal point.
I am the portal and instrument or an idea of another paradigm from another dimension. Like being a fetus dropped from some metaphysical, "Mothership", placenta. I've been planted (incarnated) within the forms, morphology of the environment. Yet, I'm expected to innately and intuitively synthesize the phenomenology of the data to come to the correct perception of my identity, purpose, and function as the cosmic visitation.
Relationships are for more that the social by-products of the sentiments that are exchanged. They are the lesson plans that provide the context for me to distinguish what is fertile to follow or sterile to ignore for my metamorphing of transcendence.
The energy levels felt with some persons are greater. The more we respond to those energies being transmitted back and forth between us, the more I learn of the affects upon me and the effects I can generate.
Freedom, for its own sake, is the purpose. In freedom there is the limitless of options and opportunity. In the limitless of options and opportunities one sees also the feasibility with in the space and time frame of an interaction. "It is what it is" takes me beyond over-indulged sentiment to what can be done tangibly, which itself is the incidental by-product of what I have been able to conceive as possible.
It is in the conception and recreation that I provide portals for my own consciousness and associations of thoughts for myself, and the pollenation for other's to go beyond the shell of their immediate stasis to an alternative vision for their identity and actions.
Being beyond the bubble is recognizing that the fetishness with one's anthropormorhic state is a vain, narcisstic distraction. I may share this form with an abundant multitude of other's, but my purpose and commission does not and IS not dependent or defined by the doings of anthropormorhic culture. My purpose and commission is to the meaning I get from the metaphors of all phenomena I am able to associate and synthesize new insights that bring me closer to a new testament and convenant with the "life" of sentient existence.
(All gratuities are appreciatively accepted at PayPal.com account, "Cosmic Delites".
For those things that became a priority and imperative you pushed on, even to the point of feeling-if not for the alternatives-that you're on a "fool's errand". The physical, intellectual, or emotional embracing that was NOT part of my upbringing eventually becomes part of the regimen of discipline of doing without in being without. What was conspicuous by its absence becomes the forger of character and purpose.
That which was and is repudiated in you by others, becomes the "Cause celebre". That irrepressible aesthetic which status and privilege did NOT have to engage, by choice, became the siren call for your narrative. Because that call was kept stored away, husbanded, and planted in the recesses of your thoughts it found its moment, meaning and purpose as events unfolded.
I exist now in an anonymity I was trained to disdain and avoid. But in this anonymity I have found my humanity and peace of integrity. I did not sell-out "my lying eyes", my dreams, my gut instincts. I may have strayed, but never so far that I was not able to find my way back or learn to know what would become the evermore desirable way.
This is a struggle with principalities and their tangible manisfestations in the pettiness, provinciality, and mandarin-orthodoxy of men. It is an improbable and incredible narrative that could never be told to anyone but the few who have crossed or walked along this path. No matter what is presented as a mundane or reductionist description
of this journey, it is one that in its living, not its analysis would you know, beable to comprehend, or conceive of it.
Was I mad(e) for this life or was this life mad(e) for me? Temporally and mundanely, I'd have to admit that I was and AM mad at this life, BECAUSE this life seems to be mad at ME. Having said that, I may have been made, even commissioned, for this life. Having been temporally the estranged from the preferences and aesthetics of my contemporaries, there has been, mostly, and acknowledged tolerance, and a utilitarian, materialistic pragmatism to my participation. It was that way because, it was the only game indoctrinated into my training and ~learning~.
As events unfolded, I became aware of being not just a witness of a poetic, sublime, judgment, but the sign and marker of its advent-though the subjects of the judgement never knew it was happening because they were deaf, dumb, and blind by the hubris of their own temporal or secular smugness.
Being an existential instrument with no-to-little social or economic standing provides a surreal view of life. It's like watching yourself in a dream. It's you the shell, but not you the consciousness or emotion. Whatever sentiment that I have is for an operational and existential objective for a more sublime, supra-temporal point.
I am the portal and instrument or an idea of another paradigm from another dimension. Like being a fetus dropped from some metaphysical, "Mothership", placenta. I've been planted (incarnated) within the forms, morphology of the environment. Yet, I'm expected to innately and intuitively synthesize the phenomenology of the data to come to the correct perception of my identity, purpose, and function as the cosmic visitation.
Relationships are for more that the social by-products of the sentiments that are exchanged. They are the lesson plans that provide the context for me to distinguish what is fertile to follow or sterile to ignore for my metamorphing of transcendence.
The energy levels felt with some persons are greater. The more we respond to those energies being transmitted back and forth between us, the more I learn of the affects upon me and the effects I can generate.
Freedom, for its own sake, is the purpose. In freedom there is the limitless of options and opportunity. In the limitless of options and opportunities one sees also the feasibility with in the space and time frame of an interaction. "It is what it is" takes me beyond over-indulged sentiment to what can be done tangibly, which itself is the incidental by-product of what I have been able to conceive as possible.
It is in the conception and recreation that I provide portals for my own consciousness and associations of thoughts for myself, and the pollenation for other's to go beyond the shell of their immediate stasis to an alternative vision for their identity and actions.
Being beyond the bubble is recognizing that the fetishness with one's anthropormorhic state is a vain, narcisstic distraction. I may share this form with an abundant multitude of other's, but my purpose and commission does not and IS not dependent or defined by the doings of anthropormorhic culture. My purpose and commission is to the meaning I get from the metaphors of all phenomena I am able to associate and synthesize new insights that bring me closer to a new testament and convenant with the "life" of sentient existence.
(All gratuities are appreciatively accepted at PayPal.com account, "Cosmic Delites".
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