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What determines my character?

Like loss, it's more than letting go or peace in a gradual process. Our own mind has freedom, call it intelligence or imagination. We all know the truth & falsehood. But our self-realization is a combination of things, lead through experience. Slowly, we learn, call it truth, but it's a painful process of discovery or learning of our personal painful-regret. In not only what we did with our time. but to the time spent thinking about what we did, to those whom we loved too knowing we were only there for them. It's uncanny at times how we're thrown out of our normal life, coming to grips of what we wasted on, for most it offers time of self reflection. Regretting what we cared about, bounded upon on petty concerns or the things we thought we loved & it's not true. Troubling to the loss of time.

In death or painful transitions, we'll look back & question what we were doing? For most, death is a thought of whats for the unknown, what’s on the other side, but for me, it’s a starkly reminder of the things we cannot experience in our liftetime, the people we want to meet, the people we wanna love, the cultures we want to go see. When in normality or that comfort of an environment we have grown to know, our emotions tend to tell us, death isn't coming and how we got some much time Ideals, when it’s normal, when we feel alright, our thinking ceases. Ideals are made to let us know who we can be, the pain of not putting effort into it will be far Superior to the daily pain of not doing so.

I’m not writing this in support of some doctrine, dogma, religion or philosophy.

The best ever compliment that I’ve ever received, is that I’m good enough

And the worst thing I could ever say to myself, don't ever change.

There’s politics, religion, culture. Things that people, families, communities, states, whoever had gone to war over. But no one ever protests ideas. With what we call truth & lies, there’s nothing to determine that besides our very emotional attachment. At the moment, I render that at the end of learning is absolutes, knowing the minds of gods, the daily lives of cultured masters and secrets of the common people, dead or alive.

Its ideas with a heartbeat and we attach ourselves to attainable actions when it’s exhausted, it’s either mundane or normal, comfortable or even useless, cause we don’t feel it.

This isn’t to make anyone feel bad or even to prove anyone wrong.

But there’s a price to pay when thinking for oneself. Hearing about the world being a totality of things, if one isn’t puzzled about it, life, society, civilization, culture or politics, it’s a possibility one is replica mind of another or it’s under total control. Is it better to work out consciously and critically one's own conception of the world and thus, in connection with the labours of one's own brain, choose one's sphere of activity, take an active part in the creation of the history of the world, be one's own guide, refusing to accept passively and supinely from outside the moulding of one' own personality? People hesitate. People tend not to think when the flow of life is normal. No one ever thinks about their external environment, whether it be peers, family, lovers or their spouse, not even the actions their dictate. What determines quality? It’s hard to come to grips when one’s internal life isn’t reflected in the external outside times of pain and suffering or feeling flat, when we’re starkly reminded of we’re doing the right thing or not?

It’s hard to let go of things that we care about, a community, a lover, a friend or even a daily routine such as coffee in the morning. All things come to an end and I think death is the harshness of reality. I say this stuff in order to think about one's character rather appeasing the external. Our very mind controls so much of it, often, if it feels good, we generally don’t think about it until those painful moments. None of what I’m saying is new, we can admire people on what they do, but despite who they are, example, we can admire someone creating an altruistic company but doing on an external command, like for wages or being a model employee. Fleeing ideas, forgetting what we’re doing. Often we do things in hopes of appeasing the outside or what we do will amount to contentment in the future.  I’m not supporting the self-doing something for the selfishness of self-interest, but to develop a character of balance where it’s fulfilling, having the essentials as the bonus is a contribution to reality.

In a way, I am supporting one to develop a personalized individual philosophy. Feeling and knowing can be two completely different things. The now is a letting go of not only the personal past that's lived but of the future one will never experience.

By doing so, you’ll learn a lot, of not only what one is doing with their time, but to our peers, family and lovers. It’s shocking to how much the external is here for only that. And it’s worse to know when one has to gradual learn how to self develop into self-validation.
What determines my character?

Like loss, it's more than letting go or peace in a gradual process. Our own mind has freedom, call it intelligence or imagination. We all know the truth & falsehood. But our self-realization is a combination of things, lead through experience. Slowly, we learn, call it truth, but it's a painful process of discovery or learning of our personal painful-regret. In not only what we did with our time. but to the time spent thinking about what we did, to those whom we loved too knowing we were only there for them. It's uncanny at times how we're thrown out of our normal life, coming to grips of what we wasted on. Regretting what we cared about, bounded upon on petty concerns or the things we thought we loved & it's not true.

In death or painful transitions, we'll look back & question what we were doing? When in normality or that comfort of an environment we have grown to know, our emotions tend to tell us, death isn't coming. Ideals are made to let us know who we can be, the pain of not putting effort into it will be far Superior to the daily pain of not doing so.

I’m not writing this in support of some doctrine, dogma, religion or philosophy.

The best ever compliment that I’ve ever received, is that I’m good enough

And the worst thing I could ever say to myself, don't ever change.

There’s politics, religion, culture. Things that people, families, communities, states, whoever had gone to war over. But no one ever protests ideas. With what we call truth & lies, there’s nothing to determine that besides our very emotional attachment. At the moment, I render that at the end of learning is absolutes, knowing the minds of gods, the daily lives of cultured masters and secrets of the common people, dead or alive.

Its ideas with a heartbeat and we attach ourselves to attainable actions when it’s exhausted, it’s either mundane or normal, comfortable or even useless, cause we don’t feel it.

This isn’t to make anyone feel bad or even to prove anyone wrong.

But there’s a price to pay when thinking for oneself. Hearing about the world being a totality of things, if one isn’t puzzled about it, life, society, civilization, culture or politics, it’s a possibility one is replica mind of another or it’s under total control. Is it better to work out consciously and critically one's own conception of the world and thus, in connection with the labours of one's own brain, choose one's sphere of activity, take an active part in the creation of the history of the world, be one's own guide, refusing to accept passively and supinely from outside the moulding of one' own personality? People hesitate. People tend not to think when the flow of life is normal. No one ever thinks about their external environment, whether it be peers, family, lovers or their spouse, not even the actions their dictate. What determines quality? It’s hard to come to grips when one’s internal life isn’t reflected in the external outside times of pain and suffering or feeling flat, when we’re starkly reminded of we’re doing the right thing or not?

It’s hard to let go of things that we care about, a community, a lover, a friend or even a daily routine such as coffee in the morning. All things come to an end and I think death is the harshness of reality. I say this stuff in order to think about one's character rather appeasing the external. Our very mind controls so much of it, often, if it feels good, we generally don’t think about it until those painful moments. None of what I’m saying is new, we can admire people on what they do, but despite who they are, example, we can admire someone creating an altruistic company but doing on an external command, like for wages or being a model employee. Fleeing ideas, forgetting what we’re doing. Often we do things in hopes of appeasing the outside or what we do will amount to contentment in the future. I’m not supporting the self-doing something for the selfishness of self-interest, but to develop a character of balance where it’s fulfilling, having the essentials as the bonus is a contribution to reality.

In a way, I am supporting one to develop a personalized individual philosophy. Feeling and knowing can be two completely different things. The now is a letting go of not only the personal past that's lived but of the future one will never experience.

By doing so, you’ll learn a lot, of not only what one is doing with their time, but to our peers, family and lovers. It’s shocking to how much the external is here for only that. And it’s worse to know when one has to gradual learn how to self develop into self-validation.
https://www.facebook.com/knowledgevariable/
My own growth comes from a deep realization of loss of life, whether
its
at my own hands or by another, I’m skewed emotional & left questioning my own intellect, I live until it’s time to go & continue to be proud or apologetic for
my own extreme nature.
https://www.amazon.com.au/Killing-Philosophy-Philosophical-questions-affirmations-ebook/dp/B07MFFP2Y3/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1550527659&sr=8-3&keywords=darcy+prince
Poetic boys, don't let em catch you slipping, don’t get hurt, the depth of one’s love, the depth of wounds of later moments, it’s contraband, can’t feel anything, when will I learn?
The shame is coming, with eyes wide open, holding onto to dear life, I should of stayed calm, but I’ll run into self-destruction when in vulnerability, asking question to what's the matter?
When it gets real, I’ll sabotage, when I push away, I want to say sorry, but silence is the reply, wishing I could let people inside.
To when I see someone, with the heart of a soldier, with the brains to teach a whole nation, I want to lay until the sun rises, the essence of a muse, nothing else I pull into frame & display with such shame, than the totality of my own flaws & left lonely.
Whoever said the struggle will stop today,
mystics get shot everyday,
while they’ve got money for war, but can’t feed the poor.
I’m obsessed of satisfying with creative temperament to a dormant & quiet people, it feels that no one can accept both of my own duality. Straight from the start, speaking truth, even if its hate in return, spitting from dark, it’s poetic, after the show, one sits alone & ignored. Late nights, bright lights, lust & lies, loading in the limousine, with people’s hands hand but no-one is giving out, can I really blame people for trying to get what they can? I might lose my soul, but who knows what I’ll find? I’m blessed to know another, hoping in return I can do the same.
https://www.facebook.com/knowledgevariable/
I don’t think it actually steamed of anything, just born with it. Though the more consciousness I gained, the stronger it became. Some types of people highlighted more of it. Some stream of threads sparked stronger insecurities. It’s really no one’s fault. It would prevent genuine feelings to come out or the ability to articulate it. It allows tremendously jealous, angst, wasting time. It gave permission not to permit actual life experience. Suffered thoughts, I emelish and I think I am completely severed from everyone. Leaving me unfilled and always lost in thought.

Never learnt or taught myself to sit back, oserve, that its okay in a humble way internalize reactions, hostile to life, everyone I love I seem to do wrong by, leave me alone, leave me lonely, two extremes, everyone I dislike, I give love, I want everything or nothing at all, rub my tummy than tell someone, waiting patiently to be catching me slipping.

Why I’m quitting. Recently, over the last few months, I’ve been peddling interest in others, a product that never improves, causes depression and gives false allusion, but there's money in it. I know it wasn’t good for me, but I couldn’t stop myself. Now, in saden times, I’m relieved. Advertising is based on thing, happiness. Happiness to the external, to which cannot be touched or owned, it can be seen though. Everyone is born without permission, it’s the same with dying. The subconscious is more likely just yearning for freedom without fear, worry, insecurity. Since creation, humanity has searched for deities. Or at least immortality here on earth.

If the environment, the peers, the family, job, whatever is fulfilling, dropping a bunch of rules on you, you’re there for them, stop asking for change, to meet halfway, trust me, reality is indifferent, one can only change themselves, it’s not on anything I just mentioned. In modern times where, hard work, originality, developing oneself isn’t valued. All my life, I hustled all night. Here is a small list flaws that I am unable to shake alone. Insecurity, clingy, desperation for genuine people, praise for artistic works, a penchant to dramatics, impulse, reacting. And when I find someone who is generally who I am looking for, it’s heavily sparked, like my issues with addiction, I can’t stop until it’s burnt.

As for the those are, well, they’ll do anything to be by your side, cause they said anything to do so and often, it’s justifications for the wrong they do. People often tell one narrative, so you can avoid noticing who they are actually.

Change doesn’t come from the outside. No matter how much good one can contribute. No matter the glittering allure, the sentimental engagement, at times, it’s best to let go and forget, move or charge forward. The dead get tonnes of flowers cause of regret. But for those who know to some degree, might even encourage to take my own advice here. I have. There’s twinge in my heart and those who’ll end up saying something, more likely are unable to put in effort to change themselves. Afterall, it’s harder, harsher, more challenging, hellish than the daily pain they experience in their daily life. It’s shocking to how much one can change.
https://www.facebook.com/knowledgevariable/
(I had sold my soul
& the price was cheap)

Still soaking up trouble, like rain in the dirt,
I’m blessed to anyone I get to know,
no-one can be called the Devil, I’ve peaked
behind the curtains, no-one else comes close,
when you’re someone special, you’re either
loved or hated, rarely in the middle.
Reality doesn’t wait for anyone, when you
see someone you love die in the mist,
I’ve been told there will days like this
& it’s silly to pretend, that one’s sins won’t
be accountable for, but we commit, repent
& continue, I guess it's the way things go,
& I knew my cousin was on junk, I blessed
to see twenty-four. Grew up, grew apart,
to our surprise, I got my than five years,
started with poetry & spreaded out with it.
Still people think I’ve got to act only for the block,
where they only see me in the poems I write,
with needles & bourbon, fooling around, like magic
I got up & got out, like I snap my fingers.
Since early days of life, we’ve been friends, now
I see the Devil in your grin, hatred in your eyes,
Satan in your lies, it’s like snakes in disguise.
So how come, you talk with bitter & spite?
It’s my fault for what you’ve done with your life?
We barely embrace, can’t even look at in my face.
It started from smoking blunts in the back,
I can be duplicated, though never replicated, rendering me never to be fading,
straight from addiction into enlightenment intoxication,
started as a *******,
than I rose
to interact with royalty in the gypsy landscape
& developed a fellowship through it,
Now longer drinking liquor wishing meaning to come easier, thank my Muse that I'm still living, now I got live life in the way I was meant to, a paradoxical-muse, spitting game of a higher one. Read me some my poetry, roll me a Persian rug, rather by developing than be another boy with my hands out spitting out fallacy.  Stacked like a fantasy, out to ball to make contact, be back by lunchtime, finaly happy, trying to put some wisdom in my mind and answer anything calling, feeling good like I wanted too.
now everyone normal wants to put their hands on me,
I bathed in poetics,
passion is in my nature,
romanticism is too easy,
took the ideas of dreamingful life, applied them for my own,
I’m either nodding my head for someone to enter
or I’m walking away,
sometimes an experience means nothing, beside another poem to write.
The pain is deep, life is brief.
I can either be of value or just another.
Musings over the world is dreamed of though not everyone alike.
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