Saturday, December 26, 2009

if I rest, if i think inward, i go mad

kerouac, dylan, einstein, thoreau, plath, gaiman

by our own spirits are we defied?
i like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till i drop. this is the night, what it does to you. i had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion. -jack kerouac

i wake in the morning,
fold my hands and pray for rain.
i got a head full of ideas
that are drivin me insane

the most beautiful and profound emotion we can experience is the mystical. it is the source of all true art and science. he to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed. this insight into the mystery of life, coupled though it be with fear, also has given rise to religion. -einstein

is there no way out of the mind?

everyone has a secret world inside them. all the people in the whole world. i mean everybody. no matter how dull and boring they are on the outside; inside them they’ve all got unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing worlds. not just one world. hundreds of them. thousands, maybe. -neil gaiman, sandman

remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all i've taken for granted.

I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can go mad by ricocheting in between.
for me, it is enough to wonder at the secrets.
If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell. i'll be flying back and forth between one mutually exclusive thing and another for the rest of my days.

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life.

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