"..Well, hell doesn't want you, and heaven is full
Bring me some water, put it in this skull
I walk between the raindrops, I wait in bug house square
And the army ants, they leave nothin' but the bones
Tom Waits - Earth died screaming
That's how I feel right now.
That we are all, in effect, dead. That the Magic that should be Life is lost to the baseness of human nature. Or to the nothingness that is the only existence.
Or perhaps it's just me. The magic is lost bec
I have been reading a book on Brian Eno, who some may know from his Roxy Music- days back in the early 70's. He has always intrigued me, as a musician/producer/impressario/polymath with his hands in all aspects of music(making).
The book is called "Oblique Music", which gets it's name from Both the artist Peter Schmidt's and Eno's idea of "Oblique Strategies" which eventually consisted of a hundred of so cards with short sentences, aphorisms and suggestions if you will, to break an artistic
Meaninglessness. Nothing I do means anything to me. Nothing I see around me, happening to me to the world..none of it really means anything to me.
you know when they say how we should see the good in humanity, ourselves etc. I question the whole notion of good and bad.
Why is something good and why is it bad? Why are not our thoughts, feelings and notions not TRULY US? (That is what we are being told when we are” depressed”: “no it’s not you, it’s depression/you mental disorder of cho
I stumbled upon god this morning.
I was reading Kingsley Amis' "The Green Man" and though it is (and indeed all of the Amis -"senior" novels I have read are) pretty much about the inanities and shortcomings of us humans, there is also a sense of profound thought in the novels. Not too unlike Iris Murdock, actually. IMHO. But I digress.
Anyhow, the protagonist is riddled with mysterious and ghostly apparitions throughout the novel and eventually he apparently meets god.
It was the
This is part of something I wrote to someone that pretty much sums me up:
"... my "problems" are more existential and ethical in nature than truly in the psychological realm. I have seen a plethora of psychiatrists and therapists representing different approaches to mental health issues and though on the whole they haven't really made me feel any better, they have all pointed out that my intellectual ruminations if you will and my world view at least in part constitute to my current (and n
“Chaos magic “. I am not entirely sure do I believe any of it (probably not) but that is beside the point, apparently. Perhaps chaos magic is just glorified mindfulness. Haha.
Thing is, I found a piece of paper with a scribbling on it. Something that looked like an ancient Irish “triskele”. Then I remembered I had drawn it, according to my “wish”, or spell if you will, into the Universe, a few months ago. Funny thing though, I don’t really remember what it was I wished.
Paranoid and pissed off.
I am sick and tired of the constant tendon pain I experience. There is nothing that works. There is no pain if I do absolutely nothing. But the pain is back immediately after activity, any activity. Just carrying a shopping bag(doesn’t have to be heavy) will flame my elbow. Walking hurts the ball of my foot.
I am tired of this life going nowhere. Except south of course. I feel it crumbling around me. Good riddance if you ask me.
Just today I had the tho
This is how I think of myself. This is what I have been preaching all this time on df.
Robert Musil, the author of "The man without qualities" was writing about a certain end of an era. A group of old-school Viennese members of the aristocracy planning an event for Franz-Josef, at the brink of WW1(apparently they are unaware of the possibility, let alone aware of the end of the Austro-Hungarian empire) . As we all know, that war was the beginning of the change the way Europe thought of itse
Obviously a mood becomes a problem when it..well when it becomes a problem. We have all been there.
I feel fine now, at the moment. Tired and disorientated perhaps, anxious and irritable too. Agitated. Exited. Euphoric even. But that’s the way it goes for me when I feel (hypo)manic. Or depressed. As I am never truly either.
There is something cyclic going on, but it is not full blown bipolar. Neither have I ever really had full blown depression. There is always
Feeling good is a mirage. Feeling like crap is reality.
All of it amounts to the same. Self-help, new-age, big pharma.. psychiatry (the pseudoscience of our time).
Do this and you'll feel better. Do that to be the authentic you. Take these meds to feel better.
I don't like people. Fact.
I don't like myself. Fact.
I don't want to live in this world. Fact.
No one really want's true change. Fact.
Oh and the real biggie: No one want's to feel like
Just a 30 minutes ago I went out on the balcony of my parents’ balcony and looked into the darkness of the night.
I glanced down and saw nothing at all. I thought how I could end it in seconds.
A leap into the dark.
I was talking to a good friend of mine(yes I actually have one or two) and she said I seemed more stable recently.
It's true. I've been more upbeat in general recently and I suppose there is a (faint) sense of stability too.
I'm also more aware of the constant frustration and the abject tendancy of nihilism that constitutes me at least in part. That is when I'm more stable.
Stable. Thing is when my friend said I seemed more stable I immediately thought of:
" A building for