Sentimentality, the ostentatious parading of excessive and spurious emotion, is the mark of dishonesty and the ability to feel; the wet eyes of the sentimentalist betray his aversion to experience, his fear of life, his arid heart; and it is always, therefore, the signal of secret and violent inhumanity, the mask of cruelty… He is not, after all, merely a number of a Society or a Group or a deploration conundrum to be explained by Science. He is—and how old-fashioned the words sound!—something more than that, something resolutely indefinable, unpredictable. In overlooking, denying, evading his complexity—which is nothing more than the disquieting complexity of ourselves—we are diminished and we perish; only within this web of ambiguity, paradox, this hunger, danger, darkness, can we find at once ourselves and the power that will free us from ourselves… Our passion for categorization, life neatly fitted into pegs, has led to an unforeseen, paradoxical distress: confusion, a breakdown of meaning.”
Everybody’s Protest Novel
cycled the whole city
river to the sea
terraced lanes my map’s never seen
but didn’t shed a bead of sweat
cheeks just got a little red
to coil her chain
thinking back, peddled so fast
I didn’t feel a thing riding into that crash
locked in bed the next few days
wading within some psychotic break
until leaving again
for another spin
How do hormonal fluctuations—whether in circadian or menstrual cycles—impact psychedelic interaction and interpretation?
an icky game to play
arrogantly publish preconceived thought
By: a groomed persona
but still I write
all I stumble to say
Can anything ~be done~ with the awareness of being within or undergoing hardship other than acknowledging that awareness and riding it out? What does this say about the ability/inability to rationalize or act ~out of~ suffering?
To be passing is to live; to remain and continue is to die… in sculpture, architecture, and painting the finished form stands still, but even so the eye finds pleasure in the form only when it contains a certain lack of symmetry, when, frozen in stone as it may be, it looks as if it were in the midst of motion… For when we fail to see that our life is change, we set ourselves against ourselves and become like Ouroboros, the misguided snake, who tried to eat his own tail. Ouroboros is the perennial symbol of all vicious cycles, of every attempt to split our being asunder and make one part conquer the other… Released from the circle of attempted self-love, the mind of man draws the whole universe into its own unity as a single dewdrop seems to contain the entire sky.”
The Wisdom of Insecurity
Would we lighten our geometric stretch/influence/radiance/radiation if we became aware of its infinite reach?
If plant intelligences acknowledge biological sex differences then shouldn’t humans?
*Recommend reading Larry Cahill’s article ‘Denying the Neuroscience of Sex Differences.’ We can demand equal treatment without urging sameness. And admitting difference across the sexes doesn’t mean one is better than the other and doesn’t deny/exclude intersex or transgender realities.