not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.

Monday, July 16, 2012

investigation of the self viii: what is it to be you?


what is it to be you?  what is it to be me?


if i am to be honest, and i want to be honest, honesty the shield against the inauthentic life - sometimes i am sad.  there is a great deal to reckon with in this life.  so i tell you that one night while sitting with my hair hanging down over my face and staring down at my thighs, only this window of sight open, and while crying, i realize that only i will ever know what it is like to be me.  what an astounding revelation!  only i have this capacity to know me from this vantage point, from inside my eyes, no camera able to sink back far enough, to be able to encapsulate the filter that is all of my history, that is all of my desire and all of my fear.  considering this incredible revelation, that only i know what it is to be me (and of course, i am only just now learning) even my vantage point pivots and i begin to see myself differently, more clearly.

5 comments:

  1. "sharing" creates a "relection"...reckon?...to enable "seeing"...

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  2. Mega-props, warrior against inauthenticity!!!

    oh my yes - that's the starting point. The next stage is learning you've been programmed as a machine because all you know of others is their predictability as machines.

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  3. Yes ... the true self-knowledge is always alone with yourself!
    kiss

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  4. Empty yourself of everything,
    Let the mind be still,
    Who can wait while the mud settles?
    Who can be still till the moment of action?

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  5. One never ceases to surprise with its own existence, just as you're happy and dark clouds looming on the horizon that make tambaler all your foundation, life is too much like a roller coaster and there's no way to encapsulate it. perhaps enjoy the moments of joy and others mourn and suffer them.
    My words will probably not be of much help, but lately I live in a tunnel and there is no way to see the light.

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"Words at the limit of hearing, attributable to no one, received in the conch of the ear like dew by a leaf." (philippe jaccottet) or even a quiet presence is appreciated))