Jul 21, 2004
the following is an exercise:
This is the song of myself, redux. For who but the muses of the past can we turn? Who? Who? Let me sing the only song WORTH singing. I need not your judgement (of which there is so much of).
Who doesn't but loath themself so, to hate his neighbor even still? Who has but one ounce of compassion in them worthy of being forgiven? Not me. Not any. Not any idol. Oh the beauty which utters in the speed of dimensions that haven't the need to ever please the unpleasable. There is no turning from the utter realness that is this: I love, so I am.
The opinions, the banter. Please ignore the cause. The hardship, the pain. I am spent to spending. I am alive for nothing. I am forever within so that without can not be. Do not forget there is no proof.
There is no proof that anything IS. What is so is not so. What isn't is not isn't. But still beyond your JUDGEMENT is this. Beyond my judgement of your judgement is this. Is the utter relief.
Beauty. See the beauty of myself. Of all that I can only know. This is the song of myself, redux, that has no motivation besides the motivation of motivation.
Who doesn't loathe. Who doesn't seek to impress. Who isn't BLINDED BY THE DUPER. He who controls nothing but illusion. Illusion which even the cunning must fear. Stop. Remember the Lord of hosts who is the only source of peace to your intellect which will attempt, ATTEMPT to rebuke the unpenetrable. Not here. Not now. But soon.
This is the song of myself. The literate cannot deny.
Heed the sunset and the mountain and the placid truth GIVEN freely to no one who is worthy. Heed the gentle patience the ONE offers. He who shouldn't but deny all. Would not you deny one who denies you? But forget that. We all know that sadness of knowing. Yes, just make do. Make do.
This is the song of myself. Whereas I am the golden highlight of eternal mirth and the joy that I know can never be known without knowing thyself.
What a fool am I to care, to attempt the unattemptable. But I am fool enough to try. I am fool enough to stand within myself here and now.
cont. later
This is the song of myself, redux. For who but the muses of the past can we turn? Who? Who? Let me sing the only song WORTH singing. I need not your judgement (of which there is so much of).
Who doesn't but loath themself so, to hate his neighbor even still? Who has but one ounce of compassion in them worthy of being forgiven? Not me. Not any. Not any idol. Oh the beauty which utters in the speed of dimensions that haven't the need to ever please the unpleasable. There is no turning from the utter realness that is this: I love, so I am.
The opinions, the banter. Please ignore the cause. The hardship, the pain. I am spent to spending. I am alive for nothing. I am forever within so that without can not be. Do not forget there is no proof.
There is no proof that anything IS. What is so is not so. What isn't is not isn't. But still beyond your JUDGEMENT is this. Beyond my judgement of your judgement is this. Is the utter relief.
Beauty. See the beauty of myself. Of all that I can only know. This is the song of myself, redux, that has no motivation besides the motivation of motivation.
Who doesn't loathe. Who doesn't seek to impress. Who isn't BLINDED BY THE DUPER. He who controls nothing but illusion. Illusion which even the cunning must fear. Stop. Remember the Lord of hosts who is the only source of peace to your intellect which will attempt, ATTEMPT to rebuke the unpenetrable. Not here. Not now. But soon.
This is the song of myself. The literate cannot deny.
Heed the sunset and the mountain and the placid truth GIVEN freely to no one who is worthy. Heed the gentle patience the ONE offers. He who shouldn't but deny all. Would not you deny one who denies you? But forget that. We all know that sadness of knowing. Yes, just make do. Make do.
This is the song of myself. Whereas I am the golden highlight of eternal mirth and the joy that I know can never be known without knowing thyself.
What a fool am I to care, to attempt the unattemptable. But I am fool enough to try. I am fool enough to stand within myself here and now.
cont. later
recent posts
could it be
Polarity
Fool in the Sky
instant rainbow
the Romantic
fellow dove
physical lamentations and other discontentments
flood
Desiree Desire
Mr. Bush and His Public Apology
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