Archive for the ‘ meditation ’ Category
photo by loveblushfever (c)
reclamation
Small things are gigantic. A heart on fire in the middle of the ocean. One lonely tree on a hilltop. An old couple holding hands at the market. A clock on the mantle counting down the moments.
I thrive on pretense and assumption, on hope and yearning. Some corner of meager existence, where things make sense in a small way, and little things are just little things, with a spill or two along the way.
Comfortably weary and restless. I hear there’s only so much time. And sometimes everything just has to be slow like snow falling. And sometimes there is no reason, just an idea.
A concentrated mediocrity. Boiled down, reduced, reclaimed, returned. A lifetime isn’t enough. There’s never enough time or hunger to go all the way round.
But to need a little less. To let in a little more. Of the world. Of you. So put on your face. And your dancing shoes.
Life waits for no one.
-loveblushfever
H. Jackson Brown Jr
Isak Dineson
“There is a time for departure even when there’s no certain place to go.”
Tennessee Williams
photo by loveblushfever (c)
Breeze coming in the window. Quiet thoughts. Simple, unadorned images of faint, yet bright memories drifting into and out of view. What we have to say versus what we have to tell. Stories have all kinds of beginnings. I sift through fragments of thoughts, ideas of things, and hold on a little longer to some kind of meaning that continues to elude me. It feels like I haven’t slept in years. My keys are still in the door. I’ve left the coffee on all day. Laundry’s still in the washing machine. I’m holding on to the edge of the desk half off my chair. Either I’m terrified or I’m indecisive. Regardless, it is the end of something. I feel that whatever all of this has been is cascading to an end point where I don’t have to do this anymore, where there is no will to put myself through all the drama any longer. It feels at once relieving, warm and good, and absolutely horrifying. Anything that ends is this way. I’m not prepared to embark, to push away from the shore and just float along, no direction, just stumbling through, on undercurrents, fumes. Just get on with it. Inhale.
The components of anxiety, stress, fear, and anger do not exist independently of you in the world. They simply do not exist in the physical world, even though we talk about them as if they do.
Deficiency motivation doesn’t work. It will lead to a life-long pursuit of try to fix me. Learn to appreciate what you have and where and who you are.
It is impossible for you to be angry and laugh at the same time. Anger and laughter are mutually exclusive and you have the power to choose either.
Stop acting as if life is a rehearsal. Live this day as if it were your last. The past is over and gone. The future is not guaranteed.
Abundance is not something we acquire. It is something we tune into.
You are doomed to make choices. This is life’s greatest paradox.
life
what is this progression of time
if time is nothing
well i’m full of it
searching, devouring, improvising
a play of too many parts
colliding
collapse
a friend once wanted to call his band that name
i said hurrah for saying yes
in a land of no
it is a busy thing
to feel and consider
the consequences of thoughts and projections
bubbles
conjurer of happy thoughts
bliss walks in
gleaming and shiny
i’d like to say i’m above feeling good
i’m not
passages into and through me
dictate that to feel is to live
and to live is…
to breath
in and out
at least once in a while
to believe that life is a process
like any other transaction
there is a price
what are you willing to pay to feel?
what is worth the bother of deconstruction
because to feel is to deconstruct
to analyze
to interpret
life is a ship venturing out into unknown waters
i gingerly set foot upon it
and hope for the best
and of course to think to myself
silently
or at least under my breath
that i am worthwhile in a selfish
all or nothing sort of way
that life is good
that solitude warms me more than the presence of others
it isn’t that you’re less
but that the absence takes up more space
because it is full of itself
and rearing it’s beautiful head back in a laugh
i crumble in the face of eternity
relishing every moment alone
-loveblushfever
“your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.”
— Charles Bukowski
“Love is a form of prejudice. You love what you need, you love what makes you feel good, you love what is convenient. How can you say you love one person when there are ten thousand people in the world that you would love more if you ever met them? But you’ll never meet them. All right, so we do the best we can. Granted. But we must still realize that love is just the result of a chance encounter. Most people make too much of it. On these grounds a good fuck is not to be entirely scorned. But that’s the result of a chance meeting too. You’re damned right. Drink up. We’ll have another.”
— Charles Bukowski
“Nothing was ever in tune. People just blindly grabbed at whatever there was: communism, health foods, zen, surfing, ballet, hypnotism, group encounters, orgies, biking, herbs, Catholicism, weight-lifting, travel, withdrawal, vegetarianism, India, painting, writing, sculpting, composing, conducting, backpacking, yoga, copulating, gambling, drinking, hanging around, frozen yogurt, Beethoven, Back, Buddha, Christ, TM, H, carrot juice, suicide, handmade suits, jet travel, New York City, and then it all evaporated and fell apart. People had to find things to do while waiting to die. I guess it was nice to have a choice.”
— Charles Bukowski (Women)
“The Laughing Heart
your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.”
— Charles Bukowski (Betting on the Muse: Poems & Stories)
“I was a man who thrived on solitude; without it I was like another man without food or water. Each day without solitude weakened me. I took no pride in my solitude; but I was dependent on it. The darkness of the
room was like sunlight to me.”
— Charles Bukowski (Factotum)
“I’ve never been lonely. I’ve been in a room — I’ve felt suicidal. I’ve been depressed. I’ve felt awful — awful beyond all — but I never felt that one other person could enter that room and cure what was bothering me…or that any number of people could enter that room. In other words, loneliness is something I’ve never been bothered with because I’ve always had this terrible itch for solitude. It’s being at a party, or at a stadium full of people cheering for something, that I might feel loneliness. I’ll quote Ibsen, “The strongest men are the most alone.” I’ve never thought, “Well, some beautiful blonde will come in here and give me a fuck-job, rub my balls, and I’ll feel good.” No, that won’t help. You know the typical crowd, “Wow, it’s Friday night, what are you going to do? Just sit there?” Well, yeah. Because there’s nothing out there. It’s stupidity. Stupid people mingling with stupid people. Let them stupidify themselves. I’ve never been bothered with the need to rush out into the night. I hid in bars, because I didn’t want to hide in factories. That’s all. Sorry for all the millions, but I’ve never been lonely. I like myself. I’m the best form of entertainment I have. Let’s drink more wine!”
— Charles Bukowski
“It was true that I didn’t have much ambition, but there ought to be a place for people without ambition, I mean a better place than the one usually reserved. How in the hell could a man enjoy being awakened at 6:30 a.m. by an alarm clock, leap out of bed, dress, force-feed, shit, piss, brush teeth and hair, and fight traffic to get to a place where essentially you made lots of money for somebody else and were asked to be grateful for the opportunity to do so?”
— Charles Bukowski (Factotum)
“For those who believe in God, most of the big questions are answered. But for those of us who can’t readily accept the God formula, the big answers don’t remain stone-written. We adjust to new conditions and discoveries. We are pliable. Love need not be a command nor faith a dictum. I am my own god. We are here to unlearn the teachings of the church, state, and our educational system. We are here to drink beer. We are here to kill war. We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us.”
— Charles Bukowski
We tend to regard our age as exceptional, and in many ways it is. But the parochialism of the present – the way our eyes follow the ball and not the game – is dangerous. Absorbed in the here and now, we lose sight of our course through time, forgetting to ask ourselves Paul Gauguin’s final question: Where are we going? If so many previous ages ran into natural limits and crashed, how has our runaway train (if that’s what it is) been able to keep on gathering speed?
-Robert Wright
Wright, Robert. A Short History of Progress. House of Anansi Press Inc. Toronto, Canada. 2004. Ch. 5 The Rebellion of the Tools, P. 109.
handle – one
eyes closed
fingers crossed
leap
of faith
something as obscure
a tide returning
puzzle with too many missing pieces
absences filling up nothing
nothing to bursting
bursting to messy leftovers
a sink of dirty plates and tepid dishwater
objects of other
compare and contrast
non-fatal crisis management in a world of no
glass houses
made up faces
where is the parade?
eyes closed
fingers crossed
flesh be bone that breaks cleanly
not so far to fall
-loveblushfever
life and beginnings
there are no beginnings
there are middle parts that continue
aimless
sometimes searching
nausea aside
aspiration, forethought, a jumble
of feelings of towers
of places i’ve never been
they linger on a limb of my imagination
i pretend that i am this way and that
i wander onto a ledge
ever so dear and inviting
but i a am only here
right now
and you are over there
it isn’t bad arithmetic
it’s a reality
that space shall play its part
and we will be
on different planes
revolving
with our eyes closed
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