Storytelling

The alchemist picked up a book that someone in the caravan had brought. Leafing through the pages, he found a story about Narcissus.

The alchemist knew the legend of Narcissus, a youth who knelt daily beside a lake to contemplate his own beauty. He was so fascinated by himself that, one morning, he fell into the lake and drowned. At the spot where he fell, a flower was born, which was called the narcissus.

But this was not how the author of the book ended the story.

He said that when Narcissus died, the goddesses of the forest appeared and found the lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty tears.

"Why do you weep?" the goddesses asked. "I weep for Narcissus" the lake replied. "Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus," they said, "for thought we always pursued him in the forest, you alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand."

"But... was Narcissus beautiful?" the lake asked.

"Who better than you to know that?" the goddesses said in wonder. "After all, it was by your banks that he knelt each day to contemplate himself?"

The lake was silent for some time. Finally, it said:

"I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful. I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty reflected."

"What a lovely story," the alchemist thought

(From the Prologue, The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho)

Hold Still

Hold still.

...

Shhhh

Quieten thy mind, steel thy soul.

Easy now.

Hold still.

Shhhhhhh

While your heart races, your body shakes inside, and your mind explodes- HOLD STILL.

Freeze your muscles. Lock yourself.

While your rage rages, while your pain cries out for release, control. control. control yourself.

Hold fucking still, damn you. The minute you let go, you lose again. The second you let your guard down, you do it all over again.

Hold
Still

I bite my tongue more than ya'll know. 

For 3/4 of my life I did whatever I wanted. For this last 1/4 of it, the past 10 years, I have done everything I am supposed to do. And, its not hard. Its actually what I want, but my whims never suffered my responsibilities too long back then.

And, its easier. I have a lot less apologies to make, that is for sure. The kids are good. That's always been my bottom line.

And i still have my fun. Heh. More than most, I'm sure. i'm charmed like that. For whatever reason, theres a certain portion of the female population that adores crazy guys like me. (thank god). They are my bread and butter. And I love them.

But I ain't happy. I don't sweat that too much. I don't know anyone who is, honestly. Everyone is haunted by their own ghosts. That shit will eat you up if you let it. I don't. Except on nights like this, when i dream of spectres past and wish for the ghosts of days gone by to reappear.

It's all fleeting fucking fantasies, I know. But the only love I have left is the residue in my heart for my long lost loves.

Dana.Misha.Susanna.Angela.Andrea.  what a fucking crew of fantasy and fatality that group is, was, and ever shall be.

All the best.All the fucking absolute worst. Heart singing, soul crushing, exhilaration and despair.

Broken hearts don't always mend.

And sometimes, I don't want it to. I don't want to forget. Fuck, how could/can i ? That's the worst part- I remember- hell, i STILL love them all. I was in love with everyone of them. And I know, you're like Motherfucking - FIVE? Damn Ho, pick a bitch.

It is what it is. I've tried to love since then. Everything else gets compared to the memories and doesnt measure up. was it so good?  Probably fucking not. Who cares? I'm on this whiskey Lullabye for the duration. Maybe they arent worth my love. Chances are, a couple of them aren't  (and you bitches know who you are, dont ya). But, it doesnt matter. In my lovesick heart- I had X amount of love in my life, and I spent it all on these women. I love them all. Maybe, i'll find room for someone else one of these days. ?

I don't think so. I think i'm spent. And oddly enough, I'm good with that. So, ignore the drunken fool in the corner, singing old love songs to himself. He's closer to heaven than he ever was in those moments.

And the Philosophers say...

... much, as it turns out-

There is accepted wisdom and there is Applied Wisdom. Unfortunately Humanity is not a perfect machine, that uses both forms of wisdom in ever-evolving completion. What this means, is that- We are forever in need of those that can use accepted wisdom in order to Re-Apply it to our current condition. And, thus, all progress depends.

So, Get off your ass and apply some effin wisdom, if you want anything to get any better in your own life- or collectively, as a whole.

"One day at a time, Sweet Jay-sus"

http://www.sacred-texts.com/cla/archim/sand/sandreck.htm

"Cicero in Tusculan Disputations famously tells us that
Socrates first called philosophy down from the sky, set it in cities and even introduced it into homes, and compelled it to consider life and morals, good and evil.

Again in the Academica he attributes to Varro the following view:
It is my view, and it is universally agreed, that Socrates was the first person who summoned philosophy away from mysteries veiled in concealment by nature herself, upon which all philosophers before him had been engaged, and led it to the subject of ordinary life, in order to investigate the virtues and vices, and good and evil generally, and to realize that heavenly matters are either remote from our knowledge or else, however fully known, have
nothing to do with the good life."

(from Routledge History of Philosophy vol.I)

hindsight being 20/20, we can do away with Cicero's embellishment. Philosophy was no more introduced by Socrates to humanity than morality. But, still, his analysis was of the first, and is to be respected as such. He was one of the first to recognize this for its value and expound upon it for the greater good of man's awakening self-awareness...

Know Thyself. And to take it one step further- KNOW EACH OTHER.

The basic elements always remain the same. It is for this generation (not the mention the next, and then the next again) to find itself in these basic elements and re-discover the old wisdom and embellish upon it ourselves. Without this, we are as nothing.

I think that i've known it all, all along. but that fact never seems to help- a-goddam thing.

Excerpts from the past: Part 832  (to the soundtrack of Pink Floyd's Wish you were here)

I dont know when to dream...

        And I dont know when to die.

       

        I sit here unknowing, encased in a cage made of lies.

       What is life, and why do I care?

       A bullshit blur of motion, and my blank stare.

       I hate to feel and I FEEL TO HATE.

                                                              4/21/98

And on a lighter note...

            Sitting here examining this life that I live, that oftimes I deem a tragedy, when I know it's just a comedy. The truly humorous part is the key player is unknowing (well let's call it a self-imposed veil of ignorance...) that his life is just like anybody elses, maybe a little more interesting, but that is only because he seeks out conflict in the misguided attempt to accomplish something. "Accomplish what" you say? well, whatever. something. Something important... you know what I mean...  Ha. That last line has so much depth, and the funny thing is that is reveals how truly shallow we all are.

            There are things we can chase, things WE CAN ACCOMPLISH. And those things are anything and everything. My whole problem is that I don't believe in Anything, anymore. You know, it has run thru cycles with me, The Meaning of Life, I mean.

           

            When I was young, It was PASSION. The more you cared the more you existed. There were so many causes that I championed, so many deep rooted beliefs, all that came unto being under my careful teenage introspection. And life was good, because even though I saw the bad, I understood the solutions. I stood for the answers! (Damn it!)

            And then passion cooled, and I entered the realm of THOUGHT. Everything had its extremes, and its opposites. You had to accept everything, refute nothing, and come to a middle ground based on personal experience. "Logic is all".  And life was good, because, even though I empathized with those of baser existence, or of more decadent existence, I understood their problems. And through a greater awareness, I would help them! (Blessed be!)

            Then there was the pit of Hell that yawned wide to accept me, then regurgitate me back  to this world of shit. I was slapped back into reality by HYPOCRISY. And I saw everything more clearly, because I saw that everyone was full of shit. Everyone lied. Everyone was hurting and hurt everyone around them, cause no one Cared. And no one ever would. BUT- Life was shit, but I was Better than everyone, cause I understood that everyone Including myself was full of shit. I realized this although no one else did, and therefore, I rose above. (Fuck you all!)

            Well, that was a depressing cycle, fueled hot by anger. That too subsided, and I arrived at the next level, which is my current state. Which I call "Truth" but you can just call apathy. On a separate note, All through my life, each stage/cycle I have considered "The Truth". Just each time I learn another hard lesson, "Truth" reinvents itself. So here I be. Don't care much at all. It would be "nice" if I found someone to love and love me, if I was happy, If I believed in ... something. But, right now, I am just not too worried about it. I dont hate life anymore. It has stopped being a "burden". I enjoy myself, (well, actually, I have enjoyed myself all through my life no matter how "depressed" I was.)

sort of. I feel that there is nothing left, but I might as well repeat some of the previous good times over and over. Why the hell not

Anyway talk.write.type at ya later, self.

Kirk 5/17/98

      

      

Apparently i have 11 Pink Floyd albums....
That's a lot of introspection.

It was a semi-rowdy night.

Tame, actually,but rowdy compared on a recent standpoint... Drove Lisa's 350Z all over hell's half-acre with Mr. Jetski. Gods, but that is a FUN car lol. Blasting old school rap hand picked for the occasion, lol. Such spontaneous frivolity can only be halfway planned.

Stopped at random coworkers houses, raising hell and trying to raise some temperatures.

Sigh.Even at my most boring, I have to reconcile myself to the fact that at least I dont have a foot in the grave like these bastards. Maybe= they just dont trust me to show them a good time. ACK!

foolish.

Thats about the only guarantee I have.

Ended up back at the casa, drinking, drinking, listening to music, singing at the top of my lungs. drinking.

Wake up in bed. I made it! Wait- how did I get here? why am i wasting this precious time?

And here, i am, 4am. Drinking.drinking. Listening to music. Lisa's crashed on the couch, so I'm not singing.. *yet/.  But-     Speak to me is on....

Breathe, breathe in the air... don't be afraid to care.
Leave- dont leave me
Choose your own ground

How you live and how you die

Run, rabbit run

When at last the work is done... don't forget- its time to dig another one...

for his elusive grace- Kirby. Rest in Peace/Wake in a fever/Die Pissing fuckers off