i like subtlety

i like subtlety

perhaps it is a subconscious avoidance of direct conflict
that sour taste
yet i am too opionionated to remain silent,
to let this and that reference go to waste
id be satisfied so that only a fraction of people got what i was trying to say
and then id know, "hey, these guys got the joke",
that would make my day
but some people ruin it, they say "i see what you did there!"
there are worse ones though, those that none can compare
they go on to explain my own joke to me to prove they are witty
"how silly"i say, i think they just ruined it for me


id rather people think than ask me, "whats the meaning of that?"
so its not just in words that i prefer to just glance at
so in music and art, i like it unobvious
you yourself can decide--that is the highest purpose
so today i really wonder if i just dont like to argue
or am i just existentialist, now what about you?

a noble profession

i am one of the smaller group of people which has almost no desire to be part of the capitalist rat race of the modern city. on more than one occassion this has been pointed out to me to be to be a sign of weak ambition. on those days i nodded or looked away, admitting that such a statement was indeed factual. but after some conversation the other day with a couple of new friends on my vision of an ideal life in the village or rural countrysides, i only came to become more convicted of my position. if anything, i am less guilty for thinking this way. i realised that drive of ambition is not the source of but rather the equivalent of a desire for competition in the corporate world. in other words, if not wanting to join the cutthroat marketplace means i am weakwilled, i will accept that that title with no embarrassment.

after all, being on the other side of the fence, though strongwilled and in focus, would make me a type of human i would respect less than a dog. knowing myself full well, i am completely able, if i were to set my eyes on the ladder of modern success, to scale it easily while biting the legs of the dogs above me and kicking the heads of the dogs below me; my rational mind allows me to calculate the cost of a dog's life and if need be, allow some of them to fall off to their deaths once i quantified the profit from doing so. but it is simply because i would rather be an average human rather than a top dog--a simple comparison of my fundamental desires--that makes me choose the village over the city.

during the conversation last week i had the fortune of being reminded of the old adage of the greenness of pastures on the far side of fences, that the rural world has its own share of difficulties, that the struggle for money is replaced by the struggle for food. simply it seemed, it was a shift of market rather than a shift of job. i didnt have the wisdom that day to give an answer; getting out of a bias accusation is impossible without the help of a third party. but now that i am no longer in that conversaion, i do in fact consider myself a third party...and i once again discover that my previous statement about my different value system would suffice as a response--that because i detest the corporate struggle more than the so-called primitive one, id reasonably and logically choose to stay in a place where my rewards come from plain sweat rather than cunning.

true, good talents should never be wasted. no doubt, i possess the kind of mind, almost criminal if i was untethered, that could squeeze profit out of other minds just like a sucessful capitalist would. but today i am more and more disillusioned with the nectar of wealth and its corrupting properties and i see it happening daily to my city which prioriti$e$ talent over humanity under the euphemistic term meritocracy. everyone is nice only to the point where money is concerned--suddenly its sorry, but i have to or it is a tough time, it must be done. the only way to survive in the zoo is to become an animal.

sorry, id rather be a farmer in his field than a manager in his office.

who goes there

sometimes i find myself imagining that people did not exist, so i wouldnt have to deal with problems that bear me down. problems are after all, created by people, if not by the self then by others. so i imagine them disappearing, one by one, thousands by thousands, until only a handful of people are left walking this earth. how peaceful it would be, that no machines would make noises, only the rustling of trees in the cool morning breeze--not even the birds have come out of their nests yet. more importantly there would be no problems. it sure would be pretty lonely, not having anyone to talk to...but coming from me, it really wouldnt make a world of a difference. sp how much more terrible could it be if that last handful of people also disappeared? no humans...just me, grass, trees, birds and myself. i wouldnt make a very entertaining myself for me. i would just blog all day, or write on walls with chalk stone once the internet starts crashing. i would think to myself. i would talk to myself. then i would remember the times when i didnt have to...when i didnt have to deal with myself. i would realise the problems i create for myself are far worse than those created by others. i would realise that removing billions of people for me is just a very expensive way to achieve the same objective that removing myself instead would. yes, it is also more considerate that i remove myself, if only at least that others dont have to deal with my problems. there really is little need for my existence. i am but a small flame--spark even, that would not make the fire any less warm than if i was put out. why then do i exist? for whose benefit am i placed here, i wish to ask, as i have realised now that i am my self not interested in claiming it. who is in need of my existence?

intj part quatre

http://greenlightwiki.com/lenore-exegesis/Introverted_Intuition

INJs are typically concerned with finding an independent and all-encompassing perspective on whatever interests them, so they can see it without bias, without being fooled or led along by ways in which other interests have set things up, and without a merely partial understanding.

an almost obsessive trait of mine--the importance of being untainted by bias to obtain truth that cannot be shaken. any bias attached to a particular truth is a weakness to that truth. it is not obvious? i search for immovable anchors of truth because such are the only places worth the effort to find. i am motivated to do it because being wrong is a waste of time in many ways. it is also proof of poor judgment. do we not get ourselves educated to improve our judgment?

the world is filled with poor anchors such as simplistic explanations, overused arguments and positions taken for granted without proper understanding. it is easy to take sides in debates, but rarely does the participant appreciate the position he takes over the veil of weak assumptions held down tight by the rush of adrenaline from being in heated quarrels. why are you here? what is your argument? why are you arguing it? the digger you deep into yourself...

...you find yourself uncovering ever more and more hidden assumptions, and you feel the need to distance yourself from those, too, before you get your hands dirty or draw a conclusion.

this explains the perpetual fact of my argumentative nature quickly transforming into the polemic style. many times i have gone into arguments coming out realising that when people get into disagreements about something, they are actually arguing about something else more fundamental. its fun to be one of the few who realise this. its not fun to know that people are wasting their time not realising that they are fooled by the very assumptions they adopt so readily.

..you might feel very impressed upon meeting a man wearing a fancy Italian suit (signs call forth a natural response and need no interpretation); from an Ni perspective, you would consciously say to yourself that he's wearing an Italian suit and this is supposed to make you think he's wealthy or upper-class or really has his act together or something like that, and therefore is supposed to make you feel impressed (signs and what they mean are connected only arbitrarily). Whether he really does have his act together is a matter upon which you reserve judgement. Consequently you don't feel impressed.

so i am rarely impressed, and it all has to do with introverted intuition protecting me from too quickly internalising interpretations without first understanding them. this is skepticism in the purest form. this might lead me to reject many opinions especially ones that i have considered before, consequently giving the impression that i am never wrong or always right. on the other hand i already know that it is inherently fallacious to accept the popular opinion simply because it is popular. i already know the the Ni function is the least common of all the 8 jungian functions.

on one hand least deluded, on the other, most hated. such is the nature of nature.

meaning of life p huit, unhypocrites p trois, morality p deux

let us not be quick to devalue those who perform actions we consider to be distasteful. the judgment itself is not wrong, but the advice to steer clear from it is usually in the rationale that people discriminate according to flawed criteria--in this case men and women are devalued according to their actions, regarding which not everyone considers to be distasteful in the first place...

we are often brought up with societal imprints of normalcy and mores; the very criteria with which we assess our surroundings are the same criteria our fathers and grandfathers used. if history has taught us anything, let it be that it has repeatedly shown us the error of our ways in terms of racial, sexual, political and social inequalities--the kind of atrocities that only the descendants of the very perpetrators can acknowledge and repent for. why dont we take a minute, or even a second to ascertain for ourselves the adequacy of following patterns of our forefathers and their criteria for judging people. this way of blind reception of instruction is inhibitive in all its connotations--it is a parasitic regressor of the long-term social fabric (as ironic as it this be). after all, time-honored practices are supposedly keepers of the peace.

rw emerson said that a foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds. the message is harsh, and for some who cling fiercely to their views this very quotation can incite a counterproductive defensive psychological barricade against subsequent attempts to enlighten; yes emerson claims that all who disagree with him are diminutive in many ways. however let us be reminded that it takes a huge mind, an exceptionally magnanimous and mature individual to overcome the defense mechanism erected by his own primal self, and with no further help attain an awareness lucid enough to penetrate his latent denial. it is a true feat of strength for a warrior hardened by battle to drop his sword and cast aside his shield and trust that not every one he meets on the bloody fields is his enemy. an acceptance of emerson's words as truth is the first step in proving that he is wrong (again ironic but no less true).

now once we have established for ourselves the criteria that we can safely and fairly use to assess the people around us, we quickly find that most if not all of these men and women who we would have been appalled by in the past, we now find no quarrel with. in effect, in trying to make our criteria more useful, we have made it useless. irony for the third time..however, note that in simply stepping back and taking a look at the things we have been thinking, saying and doing all these years without question, in looking at the big picture, our perception of all that exists changes...our priorities change.

yes our fathers and grandfathers might look at our generation and say that we are doing things that they in their time would never have dared to, that "these are a lost people." no i am not going to say that they are wrong, and definitely not that "we the supposed lost people are in fact more focused than you could ever be", but rather i say there will come a day when our children and their children will think, say and do things we consider to be appalling and we will chide them for "losing" their way, and i can only hope then they will not deride us for being square little minds.

instead let us earn the respect of our forefathers by breaking free of their will and at the same time make our own way and so be able to deserve the same respect from our children. the day will come when they earn our respect by breaking free of our wills. but let us be mindful of our own stresses of today and not impose it on them in the first place.

fighting for freedom from false fixtures (alliteration zomg) marks only the first chapters of my freedom manifesto; the second and more important half underscores the importance of making it available to everyone else as well. it is imperative that all who are free fight to make free those who are not.

1. stop judging others against our deluded ideals
2. break denial and exit from delusion
3. assist others in abandoning their delusions

the rational

garden of Hades

the frog lay between walls so high even ceilings would be unnecessary. every route split into two ways, each choice diverging into more forks than the previous. it imagined the way out, but each option only appeared to lead to yet another option with no conceivable mark of progress. every dilemma was passed with a decision to turn right, with the vain notion that consistency would result well. then it was as if the maze had become a labyrinth--but even a labyrinth has a way out.

this spiral was more of a black hole made of quicksand. every step out of the centre made the hole bigger and the more the frog thought the further it became from the edge. it was a swamp of black with currents rushing in, yet even the rising waterline could not seem to catch the head of the walls; they too were ascending as if in blatant response to the frog's so-called efforts.

the trap was like a prison cell made of dreams, that even desire could not touch, nor hope smell. even if the whole universe was plunged into darkness, the predicament could not grow worse. so the frog sat...and sat... and sat, until a worm crawled by and even the worm was happy. it went about its day, looking forward to the ground and all it had to offer. even the white-spotted black cat pierced the gloom with its fine green eyes. one purr it made and it was content for the day. the porcupine was busy pawing out the shrubbery eager for something interesting, something new. the black bear roared, the eels darted up and down the stream like ribbons in the wind. all the critters of the wilderness had something to live for.

but the frog only had the vision of a wide-eyed vagabond. and to it the topiary of the garden was only a temporary means to an unknown end.

principia fundamentalis

we are always in the running to define and characterise ourselves, regardless of our intention for or against; people perceive and evaluate one another according to their choice of words and actions. if we do not live by doctrine, we are undefined, erratic, oft confused beings tugged around by the vicissitudes of a chaotic world and its fancies. to gain true stability we become first enthralled by the tempting image of false security usually masked by what are known as Morals. it is a matter of time that a moral person is broken by shocking events of his life, yet if that person so chooses, as we have been given the Godsent power of conscious choice, to live by a certain set of principles instead, no event on earth can shake him, as his doctrine is as fundamental as the ground beneath him.

now, a man is defined by his doctrine, and to fail to live up to so is to be a lesser man. we are always in the running to define and characterise ourselves; in a world where it is impossible to escape earthly judgment, the last bastion of stability is our own personal doctrine. and we will be judged according to it regardless of our preference. yet not all is beyond control, for we can shape the very objects of such scrutiny--ourselves. if we do not define ourselves, then in effect we leave that inevitability into the hands of the eyes that observe us. unfortunately the public views an undefined person without much respect, and so the words of such a person is rarely accorded much weight; if we do not take ourselves seriously, then all the less would others do so and even lesser should we expect such a thing of them.

a foreman can tell his labourers where to lay the bricks and where to place the nails and where to drop the floorboards and say "this is how a house is made," when in fact if he simply taught his men the ideas of walls, of floors and of roofs, how amazed would he be if the men were to start building all kinds of houses no one foreman could ever conceive of on his own?

principles. we humans need them. in the early years each one of us may convince ourselves or become comfortable in the delusion that there is only one way to build a house. but when we learn of the fundamentals of morality--principles--we become individual builders of a myriad new abodes. it is important to become free of blind instruction, and to choose to learn principles over their respective constructs. there is nothing more fundamental than principles; anything simpler would be nothing--yet it is dangerous to flirt with the concept of becoming free of principles; we humans need to live by doctrine, if not by primal hunger, then by necessity of its utility.

intj part trois

wars. nobody fights to lose. those who dont believe they can win will surrender. the smarter ones avoid conflict. the stronger ones fight on; those who believe they can win are able to dump all their resources into this war. this eagerness to win is a speck that threatens to deplete its possessor--the bloodlust, so to speak, alienates the aggressive one from the other nations.

sometimes the drive to conquer is strong enough to overcome the perception of reality, a dangerous effect especially if that delusion is with respect to a military's assessment of its own warring abilities. this inevitably leads to the demise of such an organisation. through our marches of blood we are justified in power until we ourselves are overpowered. the problem is that a lack of powerful enemies willing to face the aggressor only leads to further growth of said aggressor.

we all fight wars, and we fight them to win. whether or not the country is weak or the country is strong, or if the country underestimates itself or the country overestimates itself, when countries fight, they fight to win.

my country doesnt win all the time. but every time it sends out its army, the army goes out believing it has already won. it doesnt come come home victorious all the time. but this army has long realised that by picking its battles, the wins have all been easy and the losses, trivial.

this army fulfills its own prophecy.

any country that manages to incite this army to war, is a country that has already lost ab initio.

ps 10th. fuck off and dont come back to this website

pps 10th. sigh

on cheap words and meaningless actions

i do what i will do. let my answer be solely my answer and my intentions, solely my intentions. should trouble befall, i shall be taken to full account--nothing shall share take my blame; should happiness arrive, i shall be afforded all credit--nothing shall share my glory. so come what come may, know that all was meant. all is meant. all will be meant by my choice.

i do what i will do according to my choice alone. not by my friend's. not by my clock's. not by my calendar's. not by my earthly responsibilities'. not by my financial situation's. not by my personality's. not by my mother's. not by the choice of anything that i am free of, as all that i do, i do because i meant to do it.

there will be no credit-claiming as there will be no blame-shirking. most importantly there will be no delusions as to why i say the things i say or do the things i do. i chose to. if i could not choose what to say, then what i say to you means nothing to you; if i could not choose what to do, then what i do for you means nothing to you.

i choose to give my words and actions meaning. i choose.

flaw

if there is a chance for my thoughts to be misunderstood i will not consider it
if there is a chance for my words to be misquoted i will not say it
if there is a chance for my intentions to be doubted, i will not do it

and i will forever be nothing because my discipline overwhelms my hopes.

they say people change part deux

when i was 10, my english teacher, who was also my form teacher, wrote a neat little comment in my report card.

"gregory is an intelligent boy who speaks his mind, and would do well to be more meticulous and put more effort in his mother tongue."

besides that the results were ok. class conduct was Good. i nosed around and found some Very Good's and a few Excellent's. i quickly came to the conclusion that owning a penis automatically limited one's potential to obtaining a Good title. well except for that superquiet dork guy. he got Excellent. what a dork. this was lesson one in gender equality for me. anyway i digress, back to that teacher's comment...

so when people write critiques on you, you tend to see only the things you want to see. well maybe not you. maybe its just a me thing. im weird--no, special that way. o shit, digressing again. stop distracting me. anyways. well my special brain automatically disconnected my eyeballs after the comma--its about mother tongue for pete's sake. who cares about chinese. i dont eat rice; i eat potatoes. well i didnt actually think like that 12 years ago, just that in hindsight, now i realise what my subconscious was telling me: greg, effort and mother tongue does not a meaningful sentence make! and whats with this "meticulous". do you know how hard it is for a ten year old boy to match up to this word? its a stupendous, horrendous, incredulous, not to mention a completely ridiculous feat. now any or all of those four would have been more fair for someone of my gender and age bracket in 1998.

and then, there was this part about me speaking my mind. i didnt really understand that part. but i tried to--

is she trying to say that i spoke whatever came to my mind? or..hold on--maybe shes referring to my great ideas coming from my great mind? after all i am an intelligent boy?

WOW i was totally loving my teacher at this point, until i went home and showed the report card to the folks and--well if you know what happened to narcissus, you know the ending to my horror story.

the denouement: wow i was totally hating my teacher the next day. thanks alot, ms geetha. i went from intelligent boy with unique vocal confidence to boy with no-mother-tongue-only-glib-tongue. cut my life into pieces why dont you...ohh the tragedy.

okay enough wallowing in the pitiable past--fast-forward a decade. im 22. ahh much has changed hasnt it. lets see...still a fucking smartass, still unrestrained in opinion--ok this isnt looking good--still lazy, still suck at chinese, still only Good but not Very Good. holy crap, nothing has changed hasnt it? man, im horrible at this life thing! oh well look on the bright side--at least i still have my penis.

yeah i just checked.

hows that for meticulous?

lend please

i think the most valuable gift i can offer someone is my time if not my words.

it is high insult to see my things thrown away like they did not cost me to give away.

i dont like receiving glory; neither does it mean i dont mind feeling cheap. quite honestly i dont think i am worth fighting for even to myself. i can deliver punishment, but if it is for my benefit, i cannot do it. yet i am worthy enough to be punished--by my own sick rule. who will lift me up?

i want to lift the fallen. i feel useful that way. but who will lift me up when i fall? hypothetical question--im not really asking; dont deserve to ask. i dont like to ask for something which i dont deserve. but if it were someone else, i think i would like to give. who else would want to give to someone who did not deserve to receive? but maybe i am just doing it in the hope that if i can give to those who do not deserve, maybe i, who do not deserve, will someday be lifted up as well. i surmise that it is my subconscious greed. am i deluded?

i keep saying to myself lend, but dont knock on doors on payday, meanwhile hoping that one day someone who thinks like me will chance upon my predicament and lend to me what i have lent away for free but now need, so that i wont suffer empty. sometimes i think there is not enough people around to make this work. what if i run out and theres noone out there to come down and rescue me?

i need to convince myself that if no one out there comes and lends to me for free, then one day when i am in need, God will appear on the appointed time and save me. otherwise i have only one option, that is to stop giving. but if i stop, who will lend for free?

rules part trois

alot of times, society and its expectations clash with mine and every single time i have no trouble with chucking out the window what others think about me, my thoughts and my actions.

i believe there are too many rules in the world we live in. so many of them fail to enforce what needs to be enforced, and even more overstep boundaries by controlling what neednt be controlled; people dont understand each other, and therefore dont deserve to decide for one another. which human being out there is so special that he can tell us what is best, what is worst, what we like, what we need, what we hate, what we have, what we cannot have? who? who except yourself?

many rules fall short in front me. it is probably because i have my own standards, and that they are often so high that everything under it becomes worthless. why do i even set the bar so high, such that even i myself rarely meet its lower edge?

i need to be able to look in the mirror and see someone at his highest potential; i cannot do that with a bar resting on my shoulders can i? i push it up high above me, and everyone around must go through this very same doorway to earn the same respect i give to my reflection in that mirror. granted, its often only a small amount of acknowledgment, if any at all, but whatever i demand of the public, i demand first of myself.

if i find myself unable to accede to my own demands, neither will i blame the rest for being unable to succeed. nevertheless, all these people are still failures in my eyes under that bar that i have set. i shall not sugarcoat: failures are failures. the most fair encouragement that i can give to them is that they are no worse failures than i am--the one who set the bar and did not meet it.

but i didnt really say why i even bother doing this to myself. i suspect it is the only way to live life knowing that it could not have been better, that everything that could have been done was done, that save for unforseeable, uncontrollable forces of the universe, this life thus far has been lived by me in the best possible way. i.e, this is the best possible outcome and so nothing stands to be regretted: this must be one of the meanings of life.

i believe in living by rules--just not those made by others. rules define who you are; a lawless person is unreliable--he is a rogue. but if strange rules are forced upon me, i may abide, and if any of these prevents me from finding my meaning in life, i will strike each one down like a footman strikes down his enemy.

i have my own personal code. anything from another code that contradicts my code will be discarded. let anyone who is afraid of this just take heart and hope that there might actually be some honorable things in my moral book that redeems me from being completely evil and out to destroy the law.

actually i dont really care. if rules of etiquette and expectations of conformity claim that i am anarchist, let it be so. i am anarchy. i give up. rules part trois. let this be the last time i write about it to defend myself.

yay for taxonomy

please print name in block letters. and no, you cant have my spot.

~

i am owl

i like nights ten times more than i like days.

days are too hot. days are too bright. days are too noisy. days are too crowded. i can never get anything done during the day. days are for working out. days are for eating. days are for laying about. days are for sleeping, thats for sure. i can never get anything done during the day.

but nights are cool. nights are just dark enough. nights are quiet and peaceful. nights are alone. not that i always get things done during the night, but it just feels like nights are meant for things to happen. nights are for enjoying. nights are for appreciating. nights are for reading. nights are for writing. nights are for thinking, thats for sure. i am meant for the night.

especially rainy nights. i could just sit in a wet tree at look at a glowing lamp all night. and then i would look up and look at the white sparks up there. maybe if im lucky there wouldnt be a moon, because moons are too bright. and then i would look down and spy a black cat prowling the shimmering ground silently. little cat, how are you tonight? and then i would look straight ahead and admire the soft orange glow, and see the tiny flies in hectic orbit, and i would smile, because i know that even alone, i am not alone:

all these things, they are meant for the nights--just like me...

gregory for dummies part quatre

G201

• i am fair to the unfairly treated
• i am merciful to those shown no mercy
• i exalt the humble
• i humble the exalted
• i defend those unable to defend
• i destroy those who destroy
• i protect those who protect
• i join the losing team
• i laugh at those who laugh at
• i guess that explains why i laugh to myself alot
• i think cool people are weird
• i think weird people are cool
• i think im too cool for school
• no seriously
• i turn left when told to turn right
• i turn right when told to turn left
• i continue when told to stop 
• i stop whenever i please
• i murder people who tell me what to do
• i make my own rules and i abide by them strictly
• i cant listen to people who cant convince me
• i listen intently to people who have convinced me once
• i am stubborn to people i cant listen to
• i am open minded to people i can listen to
• i laugh at jokes that nobody laugh at
• i am annoyed by jokes that everyone laughs at
• i am ignorant of the praised
• i praise the unpraised
• i deny praise requested
• i give praise rarely
• i suddenly feel like eating braised duck
• i appreciate people who dont give a fuck
• i dont give a fuck about people who dont appreciate
• i think people who appreciate are nice people
• i am nice to nice people
• i am scum to scum
• i invest my everything into nice people
• i dont even say hello to scum
• i am rude to you because you are a rude person
• i am nice to you because you are a nice person
• i dont talk to you because you dont talk to me
• i might not talk to you even if you talk to me
• i might talk to you if you try talking to me when im not asleep
• i retreat into my head when i am bored. to most people it has the same effect as me being asleep.
• i dont mind staying there because the voices keep me company
• i cannot bring you there with me because once i unplug you from the matrix, i cannot plug you back in

thats it for today, kids. good luck for your upcoming exams. hey who's that sleeping at the back of the class?

the scientist

there once was a boy who wandered aimlessly until someone gave him a sand grain and showed him how to use it, and he became good at using it. he found his sand grain to be good and beautiful: "you dont know how lovely you are!" and he boasted to ten people of how good and beautiful it was, until it fell upon a stone and turned to dust.

he was happy and so he picked up the stone and it became his new him: "i had to find you, because i need you," he said to this stone--it was bigger and much tougher, and no one out of a hundred could show him a better one. he trusted it much more than he trusted the sand grain, for it lasted much longer and he set it apart. until eventually it, too, broke. under a rock the stone crumbled.

but the boy was not disappointed. he was ecstatic for he found something better and even more beautiful which he took for his own. and he became very proud of his rock, for nobody around had a better one. many came and were in awe of the boy's rock. yet many were also jealous, and they threw their stones at him. but the boy lifted up the rock to shield his body, and all the sharp stones bounced away like grains of sand... and for once in his life he was so sure. then he put his trust in the rock. for a long time his rock served him well, and soon he realised it wasnt just a good shield but a great sword; "tell me your secrets. ask me your questions!" he said, and he crushed their stones with his rock. nobody out of a thousand could face him without fear. then one day he swung his rock upon another. with great surprise he saw his great rock shatter into a million pieces, for he had hit a boulder.

the boy cried. but his tears were of euphoria, for he had found a new him. this boulder--it was even better and yet even more beautiful than anything. it was perfect. he remembered his rock, and with greater trust than before he placed it in the boulder. and it was well placed, for the boulder was everlasting and everything that face it was pulled everything apart like numbers, figures and puzzles. many came and were in awe of the boy's boulder. yet there were a ten thousand times as many who were jealous and they threw their stones and rocks and boulders at him. but his boulder was the strongest, and all the sharpness pointed towards him became blunt in the presence of it and he set it apart.

an eternity went by, and many more appeared in his presence, in awe of the boy's boulder, but now there were also a million times as many who were against him, for he looked at all stones, rocks and boulders put before him as if they were like the rest before it which were all destroyed in the presence of his own. all his enemies detested him and his boulder and they spat at his pride tried to stone him, the more the boy knew he was invincible, and the more his enemies grew, and the more the boy was convinced he was immortal. by now there were a billion times as many who were against him as before, and the boy knew that every single one of them were one and the same--like the rest before, unable to produce anything worth standing against his boulder.

then his boulder was crushed under a mountain. there were a billion cheers, for the great pride was finally torn. but the boy was unshaken, as he had in him the ultimate joy of victory, what all his enemies would reluctantly but eventually learn--that he would conquer the mountain for his own, and because of that, become a trillion times harder to defeat. the boy's enemies cried out, "who can defeat one who wields mountains?"

until he saw another someone holding sand grain and the boy's mountain crumbled into a thousand trillion specks of dust, each one impossibly small and insignificant. and it took him back to the start--to back as he was. no mountain, no boulder, no rock, no stone, no sand grain--just dust. this time the happiness was real.

ps 19 may
this is responsible for the "skeptic's disease."

what is it

irony

melodies of the clock and of history

fill the sea behind the mind's eye

eagerly perceiving the ungathered

the gaze it penetrates every veil

doors are locked but they do not stop it from devouring all

even bricks and mortar are reduced to an ocean of easy

in which it swims with flair like the penguins black and white

and the million shades of gray in between

to understand but not be understood

is a power undesired

a yoke that chains it's heart to rocks heavy and grounds unmoving

o, how it yearns to free it's hands from it's pocket or part it's lips
to recite the stories still untold

lo, the song of numbers do not add up

as the illustrations of reality fail to match the lyrics of the fantastic script

even as the rules of nature bow down in it's midst

that impossibility is impossible and nos can be yesses

yet it must be enslaved by the dark carousel of cyclic contemplation

producing artificial limits
to be placed on a vessel of surely unlimited outcomes

a perfectly imperfect vessel even pessimism himself cannot douse

weeping is lifted by admiration of a construct rebuilt from selftorn abuse

o, how it fancies to shred every and all into comprehensible truth

lo, itself it must eventually tear
and with the greatest fervour and harshest teeth yet

so let heaven be witness to the irony of ironies
as the weight of this one weighs heavier than any iron

~

aphasia part trois

~
a white wave sweeps all

washing everything away

and this watchman cries.
~