What if the worlde were mayde of thicke starres?

Hello and welcome to my online journal. I've been sent here by a daimon to write what thoughts I might be having at any particular moment of the day, though I evade the task when I can.

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Location: Berkeley, California, United States

A 22-year old girl full of fancy, admiring people and things with a passion hidden behind glass.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

between delusions and illusions

Respect for integrity: The people I respect the most are generally those with the fewest delusions (either about themselves or about the world).

The length of a day: When one has a great deal to put into it, a day has a hundred pockets

A full life: Good food, good work, good love. This seems like a commonplace until one thinks on how incredibly rare it is to have these three things in abundance.

Of High Goals: It would truly be an accomplishment worthy of praise for any human to live wholly without rancidity. 

Half-knowledge: Half-knowledge is generally more esteemed than whole knowledge: it understands things as being more simple than they are and thus renders its opinions more easily intelligible and more convincing. 

Ways of seeing: I feel so sheepishly recondite today. Seeing others walk along is not a new experience, but the way it happens changes from day to day. Sometimes my eye will focus more on boys and their boyishness, sometimes more on girls and their voices, sometimes more on people of color and the look in their eyes, sometimes more on homeless people and their facial hair.

It is easy to be fond of grass; I like to discover the stunning way treetops look over you and say hello as you walk beneath them, each tree saying so in a different way. The surfaces of things have an infinite amount of color, an infinite amount of detail. What is so lovely about nature and the general sprawl of a city is its foundedness. Its richness is always there, but we might be grateful that it is sometimes hidden from us in our day to day wanderings, so that when it does appear (by showing itself with exceptional rawness or because of a whim of our mood) we have the gift of seeing something rich and strange.

***: The first memory I have of being special in something was the facility with which I learned things at school. [section deleted, but my thoughts led to the following conclusion:] There are so few moments in life that we truly posses some unique ability or kind of knowledge not at all shared by anyone around us. Most of the time we invent illusions that make us believe this is always the case. 

1 Comments:

Blogger Unknown said...

Romantically insightful and revealing. A testament to how perspective and perception is beautiful and artistic in itself. This is the art.

I love all your commentary in this posting.

March 5, 2009 at 2:57 PM  

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