Pain is in the perception of an event, not the event
until you fully experience the issue, you will recreate it
POETRY, PHILOSOPHY, MUSINGS, PHOTOGRAPHY
Thus I come my Beloved
& in all abasement
Beseech you – put to your hand
The imposition – a curb
To those flatterers
Who are the enemies of our love.
For our Blessedness is driven
& tossed by the waves
So that the depths of the sea
Press on us with infinite perils.
The living fountain
Springing up into
Eternal life
& love by its nature-
Dutiful and obedient to its object.
The mild narcosis
That is the qualia
Of satisfaction through
Enjoyment of art
A source of pleasure
& consolation
In life.
Frees us
Temporarily
From the hardships
Too sublime
To make us forget
Freud's misery!
This path to happiness
In the spirit of desperate rebellion
Triumphs not over reality
Madmen will find no souls
To help realize their delusions
Paranoid wishful thinking
Corrects the unendurable aspects.
The art of living
Seeks independence from Fate
Libidinally displaced mentality
Psychological hedonism
(Love is at the centre)
Passionate striving
The quest for happiness
Beauty
Attractiveness
Substitutive satisfactions
Neurosis
Frustration
Chronic intoxication
Rebellion
Psychosis
Love
Religion
Infantilism
Oh sweet Mystery; allow me never to discover You.
Let the wonder of You speak only through true poetry.
Reveal Yourself solely through the paints of our lives
As creators of ‘this-worldliness’-- the worshippers of Life!
Work exclusively in the qualia that inspires 'being'
And wait not for the opportunistic ones,
But become the subject of prolongued immersion
For those with pure vision and formidable hopes.
Commence my innocence in Angelic form
That my Angel may promote eternal beginning-ness
These words are not my own
--
i must admit
They belong to an archaic land
of scarcely discernible vagueness
Fantastically beautiful!
Faithfully preserved in obscurity
Of feeble-minds, absurb and
Positively crazy!
‘Transform every moment into poetry
with pain, tears, anxiety, astonishment, delight!’
Dream of higher certainties!
Elegant deductions need go no further.
What nomenclature of the unconscious --
Partly achieved, partly abandoned
What wish to sleep
Can find the Jewel
-of flamed treasure
Beneath the hearth
-of the cults of Antiquity?
Those citadels of femininity
What vulgar or poetic joke
Enfeebles me?
Inwardly restrained knowing without effect?
Am I but the epitome of compendia?
Or -- immoderation of critical effusion?
Nay! -- I am the Socratic malady (approaching insanity)
How many minds -- systematically perverted
Through toil in the factories of 'common utility'
in the reflexivity of mental distanciation
Inborn grayheadedness, if you will.
Would not Narcolepsy
Better suit such 'teachers of purpose'?
It is with opacity
That we gleam upon ourselves
Knowing something
Yet at the same time -- not knowing
This paradox
That is at once irrational AND formulaic
Becomes the veil occluding
Our search for truth
Is my desire my own?
Or is it another’s insignia?
Do I find it in the gap?
Opened by an imago?
Desire goes beyond demand
Demand prunes it of need
Desire is excavated shy of
The unconditional demand
Of presence
And absence
Demand evokes the want-to-be
In the three figures of nothing
Demand for love
Negates the Other’s being
The unspeakableness
Of what is not known in request
Aporia incarnate
Demand borrows its heavy soul
From the offshoots
Of the wounded tendency
Its subtle body from death
Desire asserts itself as absolute
To this object
That cannot be grasped
To the mirror
A specular image lends its clothes
Caught in the net of shadow
Its shadow-swelling volume—stolen
The tired lure of the shadow
As substance
As if sweet intoxicating nectar cascaded soulwards
Gently transforming my turbulent roots.
Nourishing the emptiness with void.
I would steal the thunder from the Gods
To feel bliss like that again
In every swampland state, then, is a task. it takes great courage to value depression, to respect it, not to try and medicate it away or distract ourselves from its misery. Down there is potential meaning, split off from consciousness but alive, dynamic. Although a depression robs conscious life of energy, that energy is not gone. it is in the underworld, and like Orpheus who goes down there to confront, perhaps to charm, the lower powers, so we too are obliged to go down into the depression and find our soul's greatest treasure"
James Hollis 'Swamplands of the Soul'
"The ultimate purpose of psychotherapy is not so much the archeological exploration of infantile sentiments as it is learning gradually and with much effort to accept our own limits and to carry the weight of suffering on our own shoulders for the rest of our lives. Psychological work, instead of providing liberation from the cause of serious discomfort, increases it, teaching the patient to become adult and, for the first time in his life, actively face the feeling of being alone with his pain and abandoned by the world."
Aldo Carotenuto 'The Difficult Art'