10-17-2015, 12:04 AM
The recent tension tripped off by shared marital hostility took me back to the old ways.
As if all I ever spoke of here was rendered futile, I felt weak and helpless in the fray of over-all existence. I was at square one, a beginner in the warrior's way.
Amidst nasty consequences, I had a vivid snapshot pinpointing the loss of objectivity, and the hefty price for not remaining detached.
The attention I paid to this unwanted trek in whatever assemblage of detachment mustered, was interesting. Though insufficient, I will use concrete descriptors.
I had this acute sense of DESIRABLE emptiness. I realized it was exactly the sort of emptiness that most humans recoil from, exemplified by hollowed elders who yearn for productivity and purpose where none is to be had.
This empty meaninglessness carresses me. Metaphorically, it feels like as if I were in a rectangular box a few times the size a coffin, within a larger empty room that represented a dark world/the ALL.
NOTHING, just NOTHING. {darkness}
Meanwhile, in everyday doings I see I am once again caught up in my own presence. I am way too fucking human (smiling). {Frail, needy and fearful at times.}
Don Juan to Castaneda: "You are a man and like any man you deserve everything that is a man's lot--joy, pain, sadness and struggle. The nature of one's acts is unimportant as long as one acts as a warrior. If you really feel that your spirit is distorted you should simply fix it--purge it, make it perfect--because there is no other task in our entire lives which is more worthwhile."
As if all I ever spoke of here was rendered futile, I felt weak and helpless in the fray of over-all existence. I was at square one, a beginner in the warrior's way.
Amidst nasty consequences, I had a vivid snapshot pinpointing the loss of objectivity, and the hefty price for not remaining detached.
The attention I paid to this unwanted trek in whatever assemblage of detachment mustered, was interesting. Though insufficient, I will use concrete descriptors.
I had this acute sense of DESIRABLE emptiness. I realized it was exactly the sort of emptiness that most humans recoil from, exemplified by hollowed elders who yearn for productivity and purpose where none is to be had.
This empty meaninglessness carresses me. Metaphorically, it feels like as if I were in a rectangular box a few times the size a coffin, within a larger empty room that represented a dark world/the ALL.
NOTHING, just NOTHING. {darkness}
Meanwhile, in everyday doings I see I am once again caught up in my own presence. I am way too fucking human (smiling). {Frail, needy and fearful at times.}
Don Juan to Castaneda: "You are a man and like any man you deserve everything that is a man's lot--joy, pain, sadness and struggle. The nature of one's acts is unimportant as long as one acts as a warrior. If you really feel that your spirit is distorted you should simply fix it--purge it, make it perfect--because there is no other task in our entire lives which is more worthwhile."