Enjoy the sensuous fruits ripe to plucked. And if not, allow me to gaze, to learn from it! I only know via sense, so let me sense! Human is to know, to understand, to talk, to see, to hear, to feel! O inappropriate behavior, may you fall into neat little harmonies with those nay-sayers, and let us all love once again.
Birth. Stretch, strong, grow, growth!
To soft leaves falling like snowflakes on grass green as seaweed.
Falling, falling, faintly and faintly falling
Strongly, like drops of dew, dewy drops dropping dewily
Stretch, grow! GROW!
Fall, fell, flew, fling, flop -- flop? FLIP-flop
Fallopian
Strong! Grow! BIRTH.
SEAWEED as falling snowflakes leaviness of softness, dewing like drops
DROPS! DROPS!
GROW!
BIRTH! BIRTH! FAINTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTLY.
strong.
The social system is ridiculous and so I renounce it and become a true individual person.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Coo Coo
On a bench sat a pigeon, and it seemed to be talking to itself. It had a large piece of bread, which one might assume it was saving for later. Soft "coo" after soft "coo" was uttered as a stately gaze was spread over the park.
A little boy ran with arms flapping toward the park bench. The perched pigeon looked curiously at the boy. The boy stumbled about, traveling in circles before noticing the pigeon.
With a bend and a flick of the head, the pigeon had lifted the bread and tossed it toward the child. The child, like a maniac, picked it up and began picking at it. Nonchalantly, another pigeon flew toward the bench and started softly, casually cooing. "Coo, coo."
The little boy was then tearing the bread frantically, perhaps, one might surmise, because the bed was stale, ripping back and forth.
A smaller pigeon, with quicker movements, certainly a youth, swooped down across into the scene with tremendous and uncalled-for commotion, flapping ferociously.
The child became frightened and ran off pathetically.
The small pigeon having fled the scene, the more mature pigeons began in conversation, perhaps about the child human or child pigeon. "Coo." "Coo."
A little boy ran with arms flapping toward the park bench. The perched pigeon looked curiously at the boy. The boy stumbled about, traveling in circles before noticing the pigeon.
With a bend and a flick of the head, the pigeon had lifted the bread and tossed it toward the child. The child, like a maniac, picked it up and began picking at it. Nonchalantly, another pigeon flew toward the bench and started softly, casually cooing. "Coo, coo."
The little boy was then tearing the bread frantically, perhaps, one might surmise, because the bed was stale, ripping back and forth.
A smaller pigeon, with quicker movements, certainly a youth, swooped down across into the scene with tremendous and uncalled-for commotion, flapping ferociously.
The child became frightened and ran off pathetically.
The small pigeon having fled the scene, the more mature pigeons began in conversation, perhaps about the child human or child pigeon. "Coo." "Coo."
Saturday, December 17, 2011
To New Daze
The push of the intellect never goes so far as when one is studying math. There is a reason this is either liked or disliked so readily by so many, and it is because of its taxing aspects or of its astonishing revelations. Proportions between measurements or numbers echo proportions between thought; one can marvel at the analogy between knowledge in any field and the logic or backing principles required to make one satisfactory in that endeavor; math takes these facets of consciousnesses to the core. How do the proofs shown by Archimedes stack up against those designs of Da Vinci, or how does Reinmann stack up with Einstien? They are all helped put togeter pieces of the same puzzle: nature. Studying the insights of these greats requires the greatest attention and devotion, and with the gauntlet of facts, we ourselves can become scientists, and attack the very field of nature, which is everything. Or we can be vegetables and sleep. I will be a great investigator! The work will never end; it is only requisite to keep a sharp and creative imagination.
Friday, December 16, 2011
The Girl at Dunkin
My roller bag is humongous. If you tried to lift it, it would seem even more humongous to you. I carry it everywhere I go. This includes the book store, behind some trees (where I sleep), to coffee shops, and so on. I’ve been reading in a Dunkin Donuts for about an hour with this bag here besides me. I mention the bag because I’m embarrassed to have it. You see, blog readers, there is an immensely beautiful women sitting right across from me drinking a coffee. It is bad enough that I am not shaven, probably don’t smell the greatest, am wearing so many layers to keep warm, but that I have my house on wheels sitting next to me is the ultimate crusher of embarrassment. There was a time when I could easily strike a conversation with someone when I was interested in them.
I still have an opportunity to say something -- right now! But I don’t know what to say. I need the words. I am not shy, I just have nothing to say. Nice weather? But we both know about the weather, and it isn’t anything conversational. Maybe I am too afraid, and that’s why nothing will come to me. O blog reader, if you saw her you’d be speechless too. What do I say?
A few minutes just past with great tension in my mind, but she just got up and left. She saw me looking at her, and I tried to smile a little, but I’m not sure if I actually did. I did, however, miss the opportunity to get to know her. My future wife, now gone forever. I was in no condition to say anything, the way I look and am. She deserves someone with more than a zip-up home on wheels. Maybe she will stop by this DD again. She did noticed me. The second occasion always affords easier ways to start conversation, something like, “I’ve seen you before.”
I still have an opportunity to say something -- right now! But I don’t know what to say. I need the words. I am not shy, I just have nothing to say. Nice weather? But we both know about the weather, and it isn’t anything conversational. Maybe I am too afraid, and that’s why nothing will come to me. O blog reader, if you saw her you’d be speechless too. What do I say?
A few minutes just past with great tension in my mind, but she just got up and left. She saw me looking at her, and I tried to smile a little, but I’m not sure if I actually did. I did, however, miss the opportunity to get to know her. My future wife, now gone forever. I was in no condition to say anything, the way I look and am. She deserves someone with more than a zip-up home on wheels. Maybe she will stop by this DD again. She did noticed me. The second occasion always affords easier ways to start conversation, something like, “I’ve seen you before.”
Thursday, December 15, 2011
The Current State from the Animal Observer
There is indeed a difficulty in assessing the current state of the world, for we cannot say much about it without speculation of a future state. And who knows the future? This is forever hidden to humankind, unless we may learn when we die, which would be a rather expensive piece of information.
We'd have to decide upon the terms of comparison. On what do we measure? If society is an aggregate of all we are today, then we may argue that people are much, much better off than in the 18th century and before. Working conditions are vastly improved. Hygiene and medicine are much better. Living space is more accommodating. Then why are we all complaining?
Because there is now, as there always was a great disparity between the wealthy and then non-wealthy. The world is hyper connected and beginning to realize what they do and don't have. I enter into the question prejudiced, no doubt, being American, the all consuming. Americans want and want. We are spoiled to the max. Money is our measure of success. What can we get next is the general question. "It's hard work buying this Prada," the wealthy fool belts. But a nay-saying critic's foundations are weak if he cannot replace the phrase with what should be said. Is it, "What should I be doing"? No, for this is the very answer we are trying to find. At first glance it is entirely subjective. How are we to continue or analysis?
We can only judge on a hierarchy of values. We cannot establish these, outside of what are universal human rights, subjectively. On the human rights plane, societies have progressed tremendously. But it is not this which bothers us. It is the socio-economic game. We want to know if our lives are being ruled over properly. Are rights given the optimal chance to flourish? Social action will never reach an optimal state, because like all the arts in their abstraction, it can be continuously improved. Analysis of that which is outside of the realm of understanding the immediate capacity of human rights is only possible via overview of objective standards of the past and present. Hence analysis as we would like it is impossible. We are a bunch of animals running around. The world just plays. Look through unfiltered eyes at the structures and musings of humans and observe the folly and manufactured wisdom, and we may laugh, sigh, and cry, just like the animal observers we are.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
The Group of Kids
Seated against a wall, before I intended to delve into the book, I was flipping through its pages, enjoying the silent warming of my thoughts. The silhouette of a teenager overtook my peace, and jibber-jabber jutted from his form. The figure expanded and the panging volume increased. His form swelled into many, or multiplied, so that a large blob of youngness stung my soul. Thence went my comfort until I walked to the café, bought myself a coffee, and took a deep breath.
End.
Coffee of swirlign joy, brown as the earthen roots of tree, with what vital force do you infuse my brian? O chemistry! I physically deteriorate, aging, but do I yet grow morally? Can my brain yet gain vigor? By the very sentence I declare it! Add a little half-and-half and, and I must go use the restroom.
End.
End.
Coffee of swirlign joy, brown as the earthen roots of tree, with what vital force do you infuse my brian? O chemistry! I physically deteriorate, aging, but do I yet grow morally? Can my brain yet gain vigor? By the very sentence I declare it! Add a little half-and-half and, and I must go use the restroom.
End.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
The Value of Newspapers and News Websites
The most entertaining news websites to me are nytimes.com and bbc.com. The former I find to be in-depth with comments close to an reflection of the US thoughtful population, and the latter I find to be short, sweet and informative world news.
I commented, today, on several articles in the times, and because it took a few hours for the comments to be posted, I felt for a while that they didn't include my comments because I said in my profile that I was homeless. I felt shunned by the suspicion. After I saw my comments, I realized how strangely paranoid I was. It had only been a few hours, and one can't expect the great New York Times to post everything immediately. When we are on our own, we trust people less. It will be hard to connect with people again if I loose the skill. I will make it a point to start conversations with people, and to ask questions. I need to be interested in others, otherwise I risk others loosing all interest in me. And it is all too human to have society.
What do we get when we read papers or visit these websites? I view of events which occur in passing time, some extraordinary or not, depending on how one considers them. Many people rattle off their daily insights at the water cooler, others let the thoughts mull over in their brain, and to where do we all arrive? It can serve general and particular knowledge, can amuse by its very curios nature, and indeed, we will not be in the dark.
The negative affects are sill more poignant. We fill our mind with impracticalities; we fill our mind with more negative than positive thoughts, thus skewing a more agreeable perspective. There goes our time, into the abyss. In the end we only grow at the slow pace of history, and through news we can only expound upon ourselves at the whim of others.
I observe that the advantages may well make a quick glance of the news worthwhile; but that this must be done with due prudence. A mind to read the news without too much backlash must be capable of dismissing the non-important, must sweep over that news swiftly, and must go quickly thereafter to read a book (a hour from which you may gain the labor of years, as opposed to news, wherein we learn the day to day).
My conclusion: things in moderation, this in extreme moderation.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Hello Walk
Hello,
I was on my walk today and not one person whom I passed said “hello,” at least until I began saying “hello” to them. It may be because of my rapidly expanding beard, but it is more likely because some people are almost always aloof. I get it; they have busy lives, their minds are too full to bother with “strangers.” This attitude, however, defeats and denies the certain moral truth: it is pleasurable to be considered, noticed.
There are exceptions to this rule, sometimes we want to be left alone. But these exceptions are aberrations. To see the true state of the human condition it is only necessary to look at the infant, for the child always craves attention and love. If we survey the multitude of ethical and religious literature and history, we, too, see the truth, “The same stuff that moves the sun, moon, and the other stars (love).” The greatest confirmation: “Do onto others as you would have them do onto you;” a reciprocity possible only by consideration and resounding sharply since the beginnings of moral thinking. How fundamental, consideration for one another!
Compassionate consideration is the soul of all the social virtues.
Bye until tomorrow.
I was on my walk today and not one person whom I passed said “hello,” at least until I began saying “hello” to them. It may be because of my rapidly expanding beard, but it is more likely because some people are almost always aloof. I get it; they have busy lives, their minds are too full to bother with “strangers.” This attitude, however, defeats and denies the certain moral truth: it is pleasurable to be considered, noticed.
There are exceptions to this rule, sometimes we want to be left alone. But these exceptions are aberrations. To see the true state of the human condition it is only necessary to look at the infant, for the child always craves attention and love. If we survey the multitude of ethical and religious literature and history, we, too, see the truth, “The same stuff that moves the sun, moon, and the other stars (love).” The greatest confirmation: “Do onto others as you would have them do onto you;” a reciprocity possible only by consideration and resounding sharply since the beginnings of moral thinking. How fundamental, consideration for one another!
Compassionate consideration is the soul of all the social virtues.
Bye until tomorrow.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Day 2 of Homelessness
I did not create this blog to whine, I created it to think.
Here is the flexible schedule I devised for myself:
(1) Write
(2) Breakfast
(3) Read
(4) Walk
(5) Lunch
(6) Apply to jobs
(7) Read
(8) Self-evaluate
(9) Write
Today, I'm on a productive roll, a roll I'm sure would be difficult to maintain if I worked the normal hours and lived a more normal life.
It is pretty cold outside; that is why I'm in a bookstore.
To end this post for the day, I will attempt to write a great and personal sentence:
My days are dragged into deep misery when I think too hard, when I wait for something, and when I am idle; it is rather when my mind is deployed fully only at correct instances and during other times deployed mechanically, subconsciously, intuitively that a temperamental peace can subsist; for this is the case when an individual has a true excess of thought.
My days are dragged into deep misery when I think too hard, when I wait for something, and when I am idle; it is rather when my mind is deployed fully only at correct instances and during other times deployed mechanically, subconsciously, intuitively that a temperamental peace can subsist; for this is the case when an individual has a true excess of thought.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Time
Several people have told me that time is going faster for them now than it has ever before. Feeling the same way, the natural question to answer is whether time itself is going faster. First of all, how could we measure it? If we used clocks, they would be going faster but show the same measure, so that's useless. We have to know how time is measured. It is based on astronomical observations. The first approximations were based on the rotation of the Earth relative to the sun, the next were by the observations of stars as they crossed a meridian, and the third is a look at distant quasars. Even now we are only accurate to microseconds. There is no exact measurement of time.
Well, then how could we know if time is going faster? We'd have to infer it, if we could, from those objects through which we determine time. The obvious factor that comes to mind, is that all observable objects in the universe are moving away from each other at an accelerating pace. At first thought it would seem that there would be a greater interval between the motions we observe, because our relative positions would be separating (that is, time would be slowing down). There are geometrical problems, however: the relation of movements between us and all the objects we are observing must be put on some fixed standard, if we are to understand how are observations are stretched or contracted. Proportions and other geometrical acrobatics would have to be utilized with the greatest skill to bring this theory to its fruition. I here only give you half-assed, provisional though. It is much easier to draw the rough outline of the skeleton than to draw the individual bones.
How would such a grand-scale cosmic stretching affect my daily life? Well, things here on Earth have motion. This motion is not independent of the grand motions out there. It is all connected. I leave linking the facts to you.
I present my theory: Observing the physical separation of all the bodies in the universe, they could very well be moving with them a medium through which or with which they move -- time. This time might very well be "stretching" or getting thinner, which would mean that EVERYTHING is getting faster. Are our feeble senses enough to detect this change? I feel it. Do you?
Well, then how could we know if time is going faster? We'd have to infer it, if we could, from those objects through which we determine time. The obvious factor that comes to mind, is that all observable objects in the universe are moving away from each other at an accelerating pace. At first thought it would seem that there would be a greater interval between the motions we observe, because our relative positions would be separating (that is, time would be slowing down). There are geometrical problems, however: the relation of movements between us and all the objects we are observing must be put on some fixed standard, if we are to understand how are observations are stretched or contracted. Proportions and other geometrical acrobatics would have to be utilized with the greatest skill to bring this theory to its fruition. I here only give you half-assed, provisional though. It is much easier to draw the rough outline of the skeleton than to draw the individual bones.
How would such a grand-scale cosmic stretching affect my daily life? Well, things here on Earth have motion. This motion is not independent of the grand motions out there. It is all connected. I leave linking the facts to you.
I present my theory: Observing the physical separation of all the bodies in the universe, they could very well be moving with them a medium through which or with which they move -- time. This time might very well be "stretching" or getting thinner, which would mean that EVERYTHING is getting faster. Are our feeble senses enough to detect this change? I feel it. Do you?
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