With life being so imperfect, we expect love to compensate us, and for lovers to be precisely all that we want. That is our biggest failure

FUCK. YES.

Dear Jon Stewart, I love you dog.


Kindness as social protest. Thats my motto. I formalized it months ago, but tonight I am watching The Daily Show with Jon Stewart and he says:

The idea of two working households trying to raise children, when are those folks going to have time then to be activists or work within their communities? Isn't just leading a stable decent life in some ways a political statement?

Fuck, man. What a boss. Its such a fucking relief to know at the core of what he believes, there is that. Its so much more than just a general supposition about how to acquire peace or what should be done with our country. It also implies that he is correctly attributing blame for the decadence in american living on our so called leaders. Fuck it all. I won't give up. Heartbreak, job loss, ailing family and friends, nothing. I'm not giving up. Weep today, work tomorrow.

With life being so imperfect, we expect love to compensate us, and for lovers to be precisely all that we want. That is our biggest failure.

Love is an art

But only for the desperate. Hence, it is much like art for the Hendrix's, the Cohens, Jacob Bannon's, and all the other creatively obsessed of the world who seek fulfillment and catharsis through creative expression. Thus, without that love, with out the art, just what the fuck are we going to do with our free time? Probably build fuel to create art or expand our desire to be loved and have love.

This being my extrapolation from something I told a woman to soon be forgotten that people like us don't just move on or let go, we try to find someone new to cling on to and if they give us enough reasons to, we won't let go.

And

"It takes strength to be gentle and kind." - Morrissey

What has clicked as of tonight is the fact that love is subversive for one specific reason: because it takes strength to develop and keep. True peace is attained through a similar fashion: remaining diligent in effort to be integral and kind. Is that not what we lack? What war began with civility and empathy, or even the sacrifice of one deciding more or an alternative is not needed?

So fuck capitalism.


Also, I Know its Over is probably now my favorite break up song. Its inspiring in a way.

Fantasies. THe whole lot of us entrenched by the most real, least abundant parts of them.

I've spent a lot of time trying to be anything but lonely. A lot of time.

Ennui

Sylvia Plath

Tea leaves thwart those who court catastrophe,
designing futures where nothing will occur:
cross the gypsy’s palm and yawning she
will still predict no perils left to conquer.
Jeopardy is jejune now: naïve knight
finds ogres out-of-date and dragons unheard
of, while blasé princesses indict
tilts at terror as downright absurd.

The beast in Jamesian grove will never jump,
compelling hero’s dull career to crisis;
and when insouciant angels play God’s trump,
while bored arena crowds for once look eager,
hoping toward havoc, neither pleas nor prizes
shall coax from doom’s blank door lady or tiger.

THE REASON WHY THE CLOSET-MAN IS NEVER SAD

Russell Edson


This is the house of the closet-man. There are no rooms, just hallways and closets.
Things happen in rooms. He does not like things to happen. . . . Closets, you take things out of closets, you put things into closets, and nothing happens . . .

Why do you have such a strange house?

I am the closet-man, I am either going or coming, and I am never sad.

But why do you have such a strange house?

I am never sad . . .

if only life were short enough to ensure I'd never have to hear someone exaggerate how short it is again.

Neither me nor you

know enough about the future to be depressed about it just yet.

You are the density of my skull. If gravity pulled the other way, I'd float in memoriam of you.

if we knew what we wanted, we'd know when we've failed.

But because we're confused about what our necessities are, we leave things unsaid, we push away the wrong people, we chase our imagination and ideals we can't acquire, and worst of all we make it seem like we don't even know how to love and care for one another.

We lose hope saving ourselves for better times that never come, avoiding what is here and perfect only because it suffices.

You’ll never be understood by someone who tells you to look on the bright side.

My anti-capitalism rant

For capitalism to perpetuate itself and to remain as significant a force in all of our destinies, it must manufacture pleasantries and innovations that impress us. It must also one up the past. Commercials get racier, tv shows get more explicit in language, music also gets more explicit and racier. Cell phones have to become even more intelligent ‘smart’ phones, computers need to be capable of doing what was just moments ago considered impossible, televisions have to show you a better picture, video games have to be more realistic, graphic, and make the person playing the game feel as if they are in the game, not just playing it.

It is only so long before we’re alone in every way. Before we leave our homes only to make money or get food. We’ll interact so few times because everything we need can be delivered to our homes, or we have the toys the satiate ourselves. And we’ll be well enough alone because what we’ll have in our home -sex toys, massage chairs, modules that entertain us like TVs, online social networking sites- will ensure us chemical reactions that keep a frown saved for the next moment none of these devices turn on. Its fucking depressing. As introverted as I am, I fret the inevitable future we seem to be gravitating towards at the speed of leisure. The number of cynics will grow as people face regular odds (arguably increasing odds) of disappointment, heartbreak, physical threat, and so on.

Not to fucking mention the self-esteem and self-efficacy that’ll motivate this change. Children already envy pop stars and figures in our pop culture, and because of that they’ll never fathom a value in their own lives. You’re not as beautiful as Rhianna, lil girl, so why love yourself? You’re not the man Gerald Butler or whoever is on the cover of Sports illustrated is, so you’re merely a coward, young man.

Bullshit. I don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do, but I’ll figure out something to offset or slow down this progression, if only slightly. A hopeless fight, but a fight worth fighting none the less. It’ll take confidence I don’t have as of right now, but I’ll get there. And though this is a call for arms made on a fucking website, I’d be glad to not know I was going in alone. I suppose the most that can be done from this a a reblog, or some shit. I just hope the words resonate, we’re too important to lose each other.

We hold on to our wants for so long, and so strongly, that we forget they too deserve to be criticized. Nothing is worth holding on to that relentlessly, especially if it is a person who has not even proven to be equally enamored with you.

On moving on

Every relationship ends with the question, “can I and should I seek to have that with another person?” ‘That’ meaning whatever the relationship was like. If the answer is in any way a no, moving on is pretty much nawt going to happen. Eventually it may become a yes, at least for me it has. Godspeed to you if its still a no after months or years. Love and the pursuit of it is one of the few remaining joys. One of the last processes of unification that we need.And to give up on it means I give up on someone else who needs it as much as me. I’m not ready to give up on love or people. Not yet.

I came to the realization a while ago that I’m not worth living for, not alone at least. Thus I must seek to love someone and be kind to people. Kindness as social protest, thats how I see it. Its too many reasons to be a fucked up, insensitive person these days, and I won’t deny it’s a lot easier to do so. But you’ve handed over more of what little hope there is if thats all you’re willing to be in life. I say this not to scrutinize or condescend any cynics or misanthropes, I’ll be cursing humanity again one of these days. But these days I’m making an effort to hold on to the good in me, the faith that there is still altruism and love in people though it is exhibited very rarely. I’m hardly saying its rational, I’m saying its necessary.

Peace

Whether individual, communal, societal, or on any scale, is the product of determining how to feel. Deciding what you need and what you don’t need, deciding what to make of the past’s disappointments and shame, deciding if the worst that can happen is tolerable or not.

Otherwise we’re just animals with the wind for a puppeteer, chaotically woven into the earth’s soil before long. Also, we’ll always be subject to authoritative rule and instructions/discipline if we can’t even settle disturbances within.

“In a world that makes you feel alienated, capitalism gives you drugs to make you feel better.” - Spoonboy, David Combs

Religion and capitalism

Both are only given strength with the willful suspension of logic within followers. It is a pool of delusions that make both alluring. Capitalism promises prosperity and gold if you work hard and abide by the laws of business. Religion just tells you to restrain your nature for a lifetime and you’ll get into heaven. What a mess.

Life is an adjustment. It seems irrational to say so, because it would appear that life is a series of adjustments. But the truth is we never settle. I don’t, at least. I’m always having to fit back into a mold and then I find out there’s a hole, or crack in the shell I was seeking comfort in. Then I get yanked out of it by my responsibilities, or sudden tragedies and let downs. Then, in trying to understand those things that befall me, I realize I forgot about this entire half of me that I was building, and I work towards that. But nothing is ever completed. I am never finished. In a sense, I never am. And if I am, I’m not the me I want to be, I’m trying to become that me…and then the definition of self I have must be manufactured all over again to appease my family, or friends, or someone I falsely think I love aka someone I need, or just so that I can stay sane and continue living without giving up. Christ, the difficulty in life. What a grand subtlety.

Personal responsibility and peace

Are equally as idealistic as the other. If we were to live in peace, we’d have to take responsibility for our own actions and their effects. But as we are right now, no one really adopts the idea of peace as plausibly attainable in any manner. But no one has a problem saying we’re all responsible for our own actions, as if to say we’re individuals raised by ourselves, loving ourselves, living surrounded by nothing. Autonomy is such a fib. Entirely illusory in nature, it implies we can actually be in control of ourselves. We, however, perpetuate this idea that we are autonomous and should be punished for our own actions, and never really consider the fact that we’re all essentially effects of some long forgotten cause. We’ve got to ease up on pointing our fingers. Put them to better use and write a book or a love letter or something

Interviewer: Is this your own will or a necessity to ‘put your money where your mouth is’?
Ted Stevens: Mandatory because current events necessitate a response. I have no money, only a mouth.

Interviewer: Are you happy for Mayday to be seen as a continuation of Lullaby for the Working Class under another name?


Ted Stevens: Will I ever be happy?

This government will let millions die from their indecision on health care, poverty, war on drugs, regulating banks to ensure everyone can get a loan to have a house, declaring an indignant war on unemployment, then send our own citizens to go die as they try to kill hundreds of thousands of people we’ve never met, but let someone say that 9/11 or some other event was orchestrated or should be further investigated and all of a sudden its rational to just accept what we’ve been told, which is that it was merely a mishap or terrorist attack on our freedom.Yea, our ever-wonderful fucking freedom.

People like us don’t move on, dear. We find someone new to cling to, and we must if we’ve any desire to love and be loved at all.

Souls of Chaos

By Abraham Isaac Kook

The conventional pattern of living, based on propriety, on the requisites of good character and conformity to law—this corresponds to the way of the world of order. Every rebellion against this, whether inspired by levity or by the stirring of a higher spirit, reflects the world of chaos. But there is a vast difference in the particular expressions of the world of chaos, whether they incline to the right or to the left [positive or negative in motivation]. The great idealists seek an order so noble, so firm and pure, beyond what may be found in the world of reality, and thus they destroy what has been fashioned in conformity with the norms of the world. The best among them also know how to rebuild the world that has thus been destroyed, but those of a lesser stature, who have been touched only slightly by the inclination to idealism—they are only destroyers, and they are rooted in the realm of chaos, on its lowest level.

The souls inspired by the realm of chaos are greater than the souls whose affinity is with the established order. They are very great; they seek too much from existence, what is beyond their faculties to assimilate. They seeks a very great light. They cannot bear what is limited, whatever is confined within a prescribed measure. They descended from their divine abode in accordance with the nature of existence to generate new life; they soared on high like a flame and were thrust down. Their endless striving knows no bounds; they robe themselves in various forms, aspiring constantly to what is beyond the measure of the possible. They aspire and they fall, realizing that they are confined in rules, in limited conditions that forbid expansion toward the unlimited horizons, and they fall in sorrow, in despair, in anger, and anger leads to—wickedness, defiance, destruction and every other evil. Their unrest does not cease—they are represented by the impudent in our generation, wicked men who are dedicated to high principles, those who transgress conventional norms defiantly rather because of some lust. Their souls are of very high stature; they are illuminated by the light that shines from the realm of chaos. They chose destruction and they are engaged in destroying, the world is undermined by them, and they by it. But the essence of their aspiration is a dimension of holiness, that which in souls content with measured progress would yield the vigor of life.

The souls inspired by a destructive zeal reveal themselves especially at the end of days, before the great cataclysm that precedes the emergence of a new and more wondrous level of existence, when the old boundaries expand, just prior to the birth of a norm above the existing norms. In times of redemption insolence is on the increase. A fierce storm rages, more breaches appear, acts of insolence mount continually because they can find no satisfaction in the beneficence offered by the limited light. It does not satisfy all their yearnings, nor does it unravel for them the mystery of existence. They rebel against everything, including also the dimension of the good that could lead them to a great peace and help them rise to great heights. They rebel and they are indignant, they break and they discard; they seek their nourishment in alien pastures, embracing alien ideals and desecrating everything hollowed, but without finding peace.

These passionate souls reveal their strength so that no fence can hold them back; and the weaklings of the established order, who are guided by balance and propriety, are too terrified to tolerate them. Their mood is expressed in Isaiah 33:14: “Who among us can dwell with the devouring fire? Who among us can dwell with those who destroy the world?” But in truth there is no need to be terrified. Only sinners, those weak in spirit and hypocrites, are frightened and seized by terror. Truly heroic spirits know that this force is one of the phenomena needed for the perfection of the world, for strengthening the power of a nation, of man and of the world. Initially this force represents the realm of the chaotic, but in the end it will be taken from the wicked and turned over to the hands of the righteous who will show the truth about perfection and construction, in a great resoluteness, inspired by clear perception and a steady and undimmed sense of the practical.

These storms will bring fructifying rain, these dark clouds will pave the way for great light, as the prophet envisioned it: “And the eyes of the blind shall see out of obscurity and out of darkness” (Isaiah 29:18).

Our lives are spent trying to find

Something better. Some facets need a new face, some need only to be seen more for what they are.

Its amazing how many of our dreams come from what are mostly products of miseries that exist in a capitalistic society. Even if it is only to escape that society.

I have created a bucket list, a list of moments I seek to birth in my life time. And they are:

1: Fall in love with a woman.
2: Convince her that she doesn't need to be anywhere else other than with me. And in doing so, I'll shave my skin if she needs warmth. I'll live off tea and bread to afford any food she desires. I'll do anything, for the most part, as long as she stays, makes love to me from time to time, and doesn't fucking hide.

Pretty fucking

tired of the games people play to make their lives poetic, to make their lives more reminiscent of some film or book or song. For christ sakes, what do we have but each other in a capsizing boat of time?

I did not write this.

will you make me a world
where i can curl and unfurl
of my own accord

will you find me a park
with a see-saw that goes around

for i have lived in circles
sometimes spinning
sometimes off on a tangent

but whatever
i'm always back to square one

will you be there
waiting in the wings
when i land

will you keep me from crashing
will you keep me from smashing

fragments and tiny bits
jigsaw me
picture me

relent

come on now
make that dent

for cutting edge is cool
but razor sharp is cooler still

You were true to yourself, you were true to no one else

THe fuck is the point of understanding a woman if:

A: It doesn't guarantee she will stay
B: She doesn't understand herself
C: She will only consult herself in her decisions for fear of being manipulated by your asking her to stay?

It is tragic and dull trying to really care for people unwilling to step outside of themselves.