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If you don’t want me at my low you don’t deserve me at my high

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#Youtube

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#Youtube

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Blitzkrieg in the brain. I. Want. To. Live.

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Some soul leaving my body and being replaced with another. But that was just one level

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It is death that moves this mountain forward

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Tree of Life

Thanks to conservation of mass there is a permanence to the nature of life. Imagine a single cell emerging into a tree of life through the slow progression of time, the unwinding of the fourth dimension. Imagine that we as individuals believe we are alone. We have some sense of individuality, we believe we are alone. In reality, we are the same matter recycled, we are a continuation, a permeation, a ripple of that original abiogenetic cell. This world does not belong to humans, and more importantly, neither do our lives. 

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Brave Men

Brave men don’t see the world. Brave men create worlds. 

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Tonight I Can Write (Neruda)

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, “The night is starry and the blue stars shiver in the distance.”

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms. I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too. How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines. To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her. And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her. The night is starry and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance. My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer. My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees. We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her. My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another’s. She will be another’s. As she was before my kisses. Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer and these the last verses that I write for her.

- Pablo Neruda

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My life is an acid trip

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Substance cannot be the substance

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The vanity of self awareness

I am better than myself

I am something other than myself

I am a divine spirit merely inheriting this self, this reality

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You will have rose-colored days, warmed by the sun

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Hardest thing I have had to do is drop the drug of yesterday for the drug of tomorrow

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She reminded me of the sea; the way she came dancing towards you, wild and beautiful, and just when she was almost close enough to touch she’d rush away again.

(via hplyrikz)