Grieving someone who is still alive is the most hopeless shit ever.💫
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Agnosticisme vs physicalisme ?
Le mot bleu « foncé » oú « clair » ou encore « marine » reste assez approximatif pour éventuellement justifier une mesure des fréquence(s) d’ondes électromagnétiques correspondant précisément à ce qui est vu… mais ces ondes captées par la rétine puis traduites en courant transmis par le nerfs optique vers le cortex visuel deviendraient couleur ? Mais sur quoi de scientifique pourrait-on affirmer cela, qui permettrait de transformer un courant électrique et autres processus chimiques en couleur pour un être doté de la vue ? A-t’on la moindre description (possible, puisqu’on ne peut rien savoir de la conscience d’autre que ses manifestations) d’un tel processus “matériel” (a fortiori quand on sait ce qu’il en reste de l’“en soi” de la dite “matière”) ? Croire que formes et couleurs sont engendrées par des ondes électromagnétiques est une illusion, une mesure des fréquences, amplitudes, emplacements, des dites ondes est juste un équivalent de ce qui est perçu comme objet dit “illuminé”, de telle couleur et forme.
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“Here too it’s masquerade, I find:
As everywhere, the dance of mind.
I grasped a lovely masked procession,
And caught things from a horror show…
I’d gladly settle for a false impression,
If it would last a little longer, though.”
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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The rock garden was real enough, its white sand combed into pleasing patterns. The rest was a lie. The cherry-blossom petals were bits of live cinders. The blue sky was a vault of tortured stone. The air hung close and foul. The bonsai trees vanished. In their place, the fossil remains of some primal animal protruded from the door.
“Deeper” - Jeff Long
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Cherry-blossom petals drifted down, white as snowflakes. The air was crisp and sweet.
“Deeper” - Jeff Long
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A5. “Projections” (Self-Realization)
My mind creates the notion
that by your side
I could be happy, holding your hand
and restoring a cosmic connection —
that life might merge into one,
that there could be a now
in which we both exist.
Every encounter becomes a confirmation bias,
showing me how kind and luminous you are,
and I see what I want to see —
not your heart, not the fear
that lives within you, longer
than I know, than I sense,
than I can understand.
All the years in my heart,
all the moments in my life —
my eyes see what you do,
not who you are.
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A5. „Projektionen“ (Selbsterkenntnis)
Mein Geist erschafft die Vorstellung,
dass ich an deiner Seite
glücklich sein könnte, deine Hand halte
und eine kosmische Verbindung
wiederherstelle —
dass das Leben sich vereint,
es ein Jetzt gibt,
in dem wir beide sind.
Jede Begegnung wird zum Bestätigungsfehler,
der mir zeigt, wie freundlich und strahlend du bist,
und ich sehe, was ich sehen will —
nicht dein Herz und nicht die Angst,
die in dir wohnen, länger
als ich weiß, als ich ahne,
als ich begreifen kann.
All die Jahre im Herzen,
all die Momente im Leben —
meine Augen sehen, was du tust,
nicht, wer du bist.
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Spilling the Cup of Life
No. 175
How long this trickery — the conjurer of life,How long must I be served these dregs by the cupbearer of life?I long to escape his quarrels and deceit—Like wine on the dust I’ll spill the remainder of life.*
Philosophical Reflection
In this quatrain Khayyam portrays life as an unreliable host, one who offers a cup that promises delight but repeatedly delivers disappointment. The imagery…
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“Illusion Bowling” game, Level 11: Merge the separated surfaces to let the ball change tracks.
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“My advice is to never do tomorrow what you can do today. Procrastination is the thief of time.”
~ Charles Dickens
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ｉｎｓｏｍｎｉａ ｉｌｌｕｓｉｏｎｓ
ｓｈｅ／ｈｅｒ
ｎｉｎｅｔｅｅｎ
sometimes the mind doesn’t sleep.
sometimes the night stretches too far
and dreams begin to leak into reality.
“The night is the hardest time to be alive.”
— Poppy Z. Brite
“The worst thing in the world is to try to sleep and not to.”
— F. Scott Fitzgerald
“Insomnia is my greatest inspiration.”
— Jon Stewart
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#Mentre sei in questa dimora/While you are in this abode
“Mentre sei in questa dimora terrena,in questa tomba a te assegnata,questo luogo di confusione e illusione,guarda il salice con i tuoi occhi terrenie l’albero del paradiso con la tua anima.Leggi le lettere con la tua lingua,leggine il senso con la tua anima.”
Hakim Sanai
“While you are in this earthly abode,in this tomb assigned to you,this place of confusion and illusion,look at the willow…