. .. and just like that i wiped a luao thanksgiving clean off the calendar; unless you have achieved nirvana all dharma stinks of some manner of self-interest, regardless of altruistic intention, and that for me remains a fucking paradox. Not insurmountable, because if you wait long enough, another bus comes along - just as Siddhartha saw the faces of all his lost friends in the river he returned to · Yet how to translate knowledge into useful information for a population facing its extinction and so broke it can’t “pay attention” is anybody’s guess. The idea of purchasing our way out of this cul-de-sac is an anathema to me, given the fact that 80 pennies of every dollar you spend goes directly into the pocket of “Bezo the Bozo Show,” which isn’t much of an argument in favor of buying more of anything.
I’d like to think i could alter misery for others by guiding them to a happy project of burying fowl, coals, stones and banana leaves, which when uncovered and eaten would magically fill the empty places of their souls, but that is not anymore truth than making ‘merica gr8 by embracing the leadership of a pathological narcissist who is so bereft of love that he actually believes his white skin and inheritance entitles him to anything more than the cup of coffee that a $5 bill will buy you @ any 7-11. What troubles me more is not understanding how truly sick this former leader of the free world is; i watched an exposé which described how d._rump’s drug addictions rendered him incontinent to the point where members of his entourage understood that changing his diapers was more than a political cartoon - but part and parcel of their job description.
I struggle to be as open and honest with what i share as is practical and useful to anyone reading without divulging shame i might feel that would be of no practical purpose to you or me - only that it exists and that i deal with it as i do conflicts with those i encounter as well as suffering i do not know how to resolve without open expression - resolve in such a way that is useful to my own healing without becoming burdensome to others. I preferred the Arcadian activity of resolving facets of expression on the faces of women who allowed me the privilege of learning their character in my manic fashion through portraiture - it can be an intense experience to be loved by one so removed, but so insistent as to be uncomfortable · so i’ve been told. This is the paradox of sensitivity. The exposé i watched about the deposed leader of ‘merica described how this “leader of the free world” would insert his fingers into the mouths of beauty pageant contestants for inspection of their teeth - because he could ·
I do not know how to process such information given my own familiarity with the erotic and too oft-time misperception of others and their suffering. It is as though we as a species are swimming in a quagmire of desire and depravation, while lacking the rudimentary skills to comfort each other, much less be mindful of their suffering. While considering petitioning for a place in the Sangha of master Thich Nhat Hahn, i was put off by the separation between the sexes - a similar proscription i found in the hills of the Himalayas by one sect from the Brahma Kumari · It does not seem logical to seek growth for the human species that does not include full and open erotic agendas, and i am stymied as to how to reconcile the logical proscription of “desire” just as i struggle with the utility of substance as a vehicle for a more fluid awareness of the human id. Daniel Odier wrote eloquently about the benefits and limits in “Tantric Quest;” i do not know any answers, but approach my own demise more confidently unsure, than with what the alternative demands . ..
And here i sit 4 paragraphs into my daily responsibilities with an aching heart and an empty glass - “there are no accidents” · yet when writing more resembles pressing pus from a suppurating wound than the development of literature, it is time to wonder, as though it is not always time to wonder. Lao Tzu - “truth is not always beautiful, nor beautiful words truth,” and i possess more confidence, however much an echo from an iconic character dead for 1,000s of years than i do for many who look me in the face as much as i allow, proclaiming _____fill in the blank. I do not wish harm to any sentient being, and know only of my capacity to confuse my good intentions with delusional ambition. I’m beginning to think i am the anti-_rump - and that my friends, is not as delusional as it may sound; simply based on the U.S. Election results substantial enough to preclude a coup d’etat at a time in world history when 80% of the human population is hooked up to the dream machine, which i’ve read elsewhere is little more than a “turnkey tyranny.” may freedom ring
jts 24/11/2020 ,
http://stoanartst.blogspot.com
all rights reserved
∞
No comments:
Post a Comment