Welcome.
This is all we have for you.
Live now.
Nothing is waiting.
There is no reward for living with restraint.
So don’t.
Do what you love.
Play jazz.
Change the world.
Fall in love.
Fall out of love.
Change the world again.
Dream.
Forget where you were going,
Remember.
Change your mind.
Go anywhere else.
Make someone smile.
Drive nowhere.
Do it fast.
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 11:19 PM UTC
Etymologically,
paradise
is inherited from the Latin
paradisus
and the Greek
paradeisos
and ultimately an ancient Iranian root --
pairi daêza.
In theory, paradise is a religious term. By that definition, paradise is a place in which existence is positive, harmonious and timeless. It is conceptually a counter-image of the miseries of human civilization; in paradise, there is only peace, prosperity, and happiness.
It’s absurd, though, how we provide ourselves with such a convenient idea, a carrot for all mankind to share in our relentless drive towards death. It’s absurd that we must rely on such nonsensical ideals to inspire us to adhere to literal, arbitrarily-dictated morals. “Thou shalt not do things we say you probably shouldn’t.
Except sometimes.”
“Actually, whenever, as long as you feel bad about it and spend a moment kneeling quietly and thinking something along the lines of ‘So, like, sorry -- my bad. It won’t happen again, unless it does.’”
The fundamental mistake here is attempting to delineate the existence of Man with an old book and relentless propaganda and childhood indoctrination and threats of post-mortem punishment, but more on topic -- why can’t one just live the right way without this kind of artificial motivation? It’s a juvenile concept that we’ve taken much too far. It marginalizes the human race -- “listen, Man, if you eat all your broccoli, then you can have dessert.” But what happens in this situation, when the dessert isn’t real?
What I mean to say is that maybe you should eat your broccoli because it’s healthy, and because, besides what society has attempted to instill in you, it might actually be tasty if you give it a chance.
Live for now. Care about people now. Because you don’t get anything afterwards; however cynical it may be, dessert is just a cold grave or a flame designed for whole incineration of your being. Paradise is now.
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 11:16 PM UTC
part of the issue is that people spend so much time
trying to quantify paradise;
trying to delineate
what exactly it would look like,
and what the air would taste like.
that’s not necessarily plausible.
the imaginations of men
are acquiescent to their
experiences.
as a species,
we form opinions based on
societal designs that stress a need
for instant judgement.
we’re contained in
an age of information and instance;
an age that has rendered
deliberation
and reflection archaisms --
tasks delegated to philosophers
and poets
and writers for literary magazines,
and other ‘nonessential’ social functions.
“nonessential” because of a permanent,
entirely pervasive air
of cynicality
and ignorance
that has descended upon us
as a species.
I digress;
people decide
what they delight in, and
what they detest;
what they revere, or
what they repudiate,
based on quick decisions
and first impressions.
this is paradise
and there is nothing else to see
don’t
you
think
you’ve
seen it all?
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 11:14 PM UTC
A dear friend inspired me to write again. Because I have to know everything that everyone else knows. I’ve actually stared at those two sentences for six minutes. I don’t know what else to say. I have nothing else to say. I miss that depth of emotion that she has that I used to pretend to have. Depression has this interesting way of making me interesting to myself. Sometimes. I don’t know what I’m talking about, but I have to assume that some sort of ad infinitum theorem will eventually make me make sense. I don’t know enough words, maybe -- maybe that’s why I can’t get it out. Or sentence structures. Or maybe I’m not asking the right questions. What do I do?
I don’t like bringing my head down, but I don’t like being dry. How come the emptier I am inside, the more full each page becomes. I’m so intimidated by an empty page now -- but I’ve remembered how to care for people. Is simplicity preferable to complexity in this instance? Is it worth being less introspective; to be open?
I’m out of answers for questions that don’t necessarily need them. Why does her poetry make me feel like that’s not the right thing?
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 2:18 PM UTC
Could you talk yourself into romance?
Would that be bad?
May 24, 2012
May 24, 2012 at 4:53 PM UTC
Where do you go
When
You got
No where else?
May 24, 2012
May 24, 2012 at 1:52 PM UTC
I think I saw you once, sitting silent on the swings;
Your pervasive empty made the cold that February morning sting;
The chains were dormant, and you had nothing to say.
I wanted only to give you something to care for, to make the chains sway.
I couldn’t approach, I had been frozen to the pavement.
I wasn’t used to this sort of Romantic sort of enslavement;
I think maybe I stared too long, waiting for some part of a smile.
But if I could ever get my feet up, it’d be worthwhile.
I wrestled quietly with ice that held me down to the gray --
I didn’t want to escape so quickly, didn’t want to scare you away.
You started to stand, and in my direction glanced askance;
I promise I could swing with you if you just gave me a chance.
May 24, 2012
May 24, 2012 at 1:46 PM UTC
I can’t write poetry
Not right now
But I’m obligated to
I have to
Impress you.
I’m too
Narcissistic
To let you ignore me.
I’m reading too much into this
And
You’re not doing this
To hurt me
Or toy with my emotions.
You’re probably just occupied
Elsewhere.
Which is really unfortunate
Because whether you did it
Sentiently
Or unconsciously
You set a trap from which
I’m don’t know if I can
Or want to
Escape from.
And I’ve got to be reading too much into this
I’ll just try harder
Until you notice me a little more.
I’m not used to being challenged
But you’re probably just occupied
Elsewhere
Or with someone else
May 24, 2012
May 24, 2012 at 1:40 PM UTC
It really makes me wonder
Why we do these things.
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 4:43 PM UTC
I promise I have reasons
For acting like I do.
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 2:33 PM UTC