I'm not quite sure who bought me the gift 3 month membership...and why? I've not been putting much effort into making friends here, etc.
It could just be the flinging of coins from the SG royalty to the masses, and I a lucky coin catcher; It could be an actual person (Gasp!)
All right, back to my dark pessimism.
*
There is a point where ones ambitions change.
I'm getting tired of bearing the burden of my dreams. Maybe concentrating on shear survival is the key...only the moment, no long term goals; is that healthy?
*
Time for a shot of vodka, then the gym...do other people start their workout this way?
*
I found my oldest post on this blog, as life is a circle I think I will repeat it...here goes (that post took place over several days/weeks (months?):
JULY 23, 2005 @ 01:49 AM
933172
So, it seems I'm back again (well, it seemed like I clammered on board this ship sometime around February, but I was too fucked-up to even notice...silly me). So many stories to tell. I'll get to them eventually, as well as get to hooking up with all the old friends...for now though, I'll just hang out and be mellow for a bit.
****
There is an ancient prayer by a sea-faring folk, it goes like this: "Gods, judge me not as a God, but as a man whom the Ocean has broken."
****
I plan to make a real update soon, but for now I'm just going to keep adding on to this journal entry. Why? Well, no real reason. I just don't feel like writing any massive journal entry at this point, and so this is basicly just a dodge and bait trick at this moment. Ha ha.
***
"For in War with the Gods I know of none of whom through which swiftness of foot could flee and make escape; I know of none whom could secure a fortress, and count himself safe in some Citadel, secure from the reach of the Ancient Ones...All things and all places are subject to the Gods, and all alike the gods hold in their hands."
"Anabasis" Book II. By Xenophon.
***
***
-Hey Corvinus, what's up with all these obscure messages you are leaving for yourself?
-Ah...you know, just a bit of scribbling. Just getting used to writing in my journal again. No great meaning, just scribbling.
-I don't know kid, it seems to me more like you are just sitting in a corner sulking...feeling sorry for yourself.
-I am bloody well not! Besides, who asked your opinion anyway?
-Listen kid, a few things you should keep in mind: You got a job, you got an apartment, you've never been cold or hungry. Ok, so you've got a little chemical imbalance of the brain...but it entertains you, doesn't it?
-Well...yes.
-You could be some seven year old kid pounding bricks for three cents a day...or you could be a twelve year old girl who has to sell her pussy so her family has enough rice to eat...when is the last time you thought about the fact that fresh water from a faucet is a luxury?
-Are you done scolding me yet? I need to get some studying done.
-Studying? Do you know the root from whence that word comes?
-Yes I do.
-It comes from
-I SAID I KNOW!
-It comes from a word meaning leisure, thus when one has leisure time one can study...thus even having the leisure time to study was once considered a luxury...in most of the world it still is.
-Thank you for making me feel so much better. Now piss off.
-What?
-Piss off, piss off, piss piss piss off!
Fucking raven. More like a crow if you ask me. Why doesn't he go dine on a corpse or something...maybe go harass a squirrel instead of harassing me. Fucking raven.
***
Oh God...next week...fuck.
The Italian restaurant I work for will be participating in a festival all next week. That means Corvinus will be working an average of fourteen hours a day for six days in a row...fucking Christ.
It sucks...it really sucks.
I will make about a thousand bucks cash...but it is really hard work. Oh well.
Yeah, whatever. Nothing is easy.
Adios.
***
I was thinking much last night.
Looking at the world in all of it's anguish and pain; all of the strivings of people and the clashes of cultures.
I thought of suffering.
I thought of my father when he was a young man.
He was a student in Budapest during the Hungarian Revolution. For a few short days in 1956 the Hungarians won their liberty from the Soviet State. My father fought in the struggle against the Russians.
In the hight of the fighting the Hungarians used to send patrols through the streets composed of at least one worker, one student, and one member of the military. In doing thus they ensured that every member of society was represented in whatever action needed to be taken.
My father was a student representative in a group that took out a Russian depot.
All the Russians surrendered and gave up their arms.
The Hungarians searched them and found that several of the Russians carried papers proving that they were members of the KGB.
I won't go into details...smile
But in considering all the Hungarians suffered at the hands of the Soviets and the KGB, and also too considering the fierce struggle for liberty that was taking place...
The Russians won...as usual. Through brutality and cruelty they got their work done. It was not a pretty sight when they came back.
Many of the revolutionaries escaped to freedom when the battle was lost...when the Soviets once again brutally enslaved the country.
This all led me on to another question: the meaning of suffering.
What of suffering?... and also too what of beauty?
I have made many bad decisions in my life. I have made many fuck-ups and failings.
I am well familiar with self hatred and despair.
When I look upon life and all the cruelty and lost hope; when I see the defenseless innocents wounded and abused in all times, places, and cultures; when I see madness and violence, and hear of lost hope and lies; and when I read history and learn how fickle Fate often rewards the brutal and tears down the good; as I experience, see, and learn of all this, I often wonder about suffering, anguish and pain.
And then I look at the world and see it's great beauty. Everything from the scent of a flower to an autumn leaf... the colors on a rock and the symphony the wind makes when it moves through the trees.. the soft light of the stars and the feel of a tree.
And then everything I see becomes beautiful to me. Even too the harsh cruelty of the world: The agony and heartbreak; all the loss and the failings of individuals.
It all becomes beautiful to me.
I have come to the understanding that without suffering and pain, without all the self hatred and despair; without the loss of hope; without addictions and pain; without all the lies people tell themselves...without all this suffering the great beauty of existence would not be made manifest.
Suffering is the root of all the beauty in the world.
All life has to endure suffering...perhaps even too the Earth suffers in the crashing of tectonic plates and in the raveging of the land.
Suffering is a constant in the condition of life.
Without suffering the flower would have no perfume and the stars would have no luster. Without suffering the wolf would not howl and the desert wind would not conjure up the rain. Without suffering water would not quench the thirst.
Without suffering no beauty would exist in the world, for suffering is the fountain from which all beauty comes.
All wisdom and poetry is born of suffering. It is from suffering that music is born. All that is beautiful in the human spirit arises from suffering. All compassion, love and self-sacrifice is born from the failings of people, of life, and of the death of the stars themselves.
Through suffering all Life is connected. It is suffering that teaches the bird to sing.
That was my realization last night.
***
Oh God, I love the Rain; I love the Lightening. I love the sweet storms that come from the Ocean and the Desert.
I Love the Rain.
There is such Beauty and Wisdom in every single Raindrop, and then...it is gone.
It could just be the flinging of coins from the SG royalty to the masses, and I a lucky coin catcher; It could be an actual person (Gasp!)
All right, back to my dark pessimism.
*
There is a point where ones ambitions change.
I'm getting tired of bearing the burden of my dreams. Maybe concentrating on shear survival is the key...only the moment, no long term goals; is that healthy?
*
Time for a shot of vodka, then the gym...do other people start their workout this way?
*
I found my oldest post on this blog, as life is a circle I think I will repeat it...here goes (that post took place over several days/weeks (months?):
JULY 23, 2005 @ 01:49 AM
933172
So, it seems I'm back again (well, it seemed like I clammered on board this ship sometime around February, but I was too fucked-up to even notice...silly me). So many stories to tell. I'll get to them eventually, as well as get to hooking up with all the old friends...for now though, I'll just hang out and be mellow for a bit.
****
There is an ancient prayer by a sea-faring folk, it goes like this: "Gods, judge me not as a God, but as a man whom the Ocean has broken."
****
I plan to make a real update soon, but for now I'm just going to keep adding on to this journal entry. Why? Well, no real reason. I just don't feel like writing any massive journal entry at this point, and so this is basicly just a dodge and bait trick at this moment. Ha ha.
***
"For in War with the Gods I know of none of whom through which swiftness of foot could flee and make escape; I know of none whom could secure a fortress, and count himself safe in some Citadel, secure from the reach of the Ancient Ones...All things and all places are subject to the Gods, and all alike the gods hold in their hands."
"Anabasis" Book II. By Xenophon.
***
***
-Hey Corvinus, what's up with all these obscure messages you are leaving for yourself?
-Ah...you know, just a bit of scribbling. Just getting used to writing in my journal again. No great meaning, just scribbling.
-I don't know kid, it seems to me more like you are just sitting in a corner sulking...feeling sorry for yourself.
-I am bloody well not! Besides, who asked your opinion anyway?
-Listen kid, a few things you should keep in mind: You got a job, you got an apartment, you've never been cold or hungry. Ok, so you've got a little chemical imbalance of the brain...but it entertains you, doesn't it?
-Well...yes.
-You could be some seven year old kid pounding bricks for three cents a day...or you could be a twelve year old girl who has to sell her pussy so her family has enough rice to eat...when is the last time you thought about the fact that fresh water from a faucet is a luxury?
-Are you done scolding me yet? I need to get some studying done.
-Studying? Do you know the root from whence that word comes?
-Yes I do.
-It comes from
-I SAID I KNOW!
-It comes from a word meaning leisure, thus when one has leisure time one can study...thus even having the leisure time to study was once considered a luxury...in most of the world it still is.
-Thank you for making me feel so much better. Now piss off.
-What?
-Piss off, piss off, piss piss piss off!
Fucking raven. More like a crow if you ask me. Why doesn't he go dine on a corpse or something...maybe go harass a squirrel instead of harassing me. Fucking raven.
***
Oh God...next week...fuck.
The Italian restaurant I work for will be participating in a festival all next week. That means Corvinus will be working an average of fourteen hours a day for six days in a row...fucking Christ.
It sucks...it really sucks.
I will make about a thousand bucks cash...but it is really hard work. Oh well.
Yeah, whatever. Nothing is easy.
Adios.
***
I was thinking much last night.
Looking at the world in all of it's anguish and pain; all of the strivings of people and the clashes of cultures.
I thought of suffering.
I thought of my father when he was a young man.
He was a student in Budapest during the Hungarian Revolution. For a few short days in 1956 the Hungarians won their liberty from the Soviet State. My father fought in the struggle against the Russians.
In the hight of the fighting the Hungarians used to send patrols through the streets composed of at least one worker, one student, and one member of the military. In doing thus they ensured that every member of society was represented in whatever action needed to be taken.
My father was a student representative in a group that took out a Russian depot.
All the Russians surrendered and gave up their arms.
The Hungarians searched them and found that several of the Russians carried papers proving that they were members of the KGB.
I won't go into details...smile
But in considering all the Hungarians suffered at the hands of the Soviets and the KGB, and also too considering the fierce struggle for liberty that was taking place...
The Russians won...as usual. Through brutality and cruelty they got their work done. It was not a pretty sight when they came back.
Many of the revolutionaries escaped to freedom when the battle was lost...when the Soviets once again brutally enslaved the country.
This all led me on to another question: the meaning of suffering.
What of suffering?... and also too what of beauty?
I have made many bad decisions in my life. I have made many fuck-ups and failings.
I am well familiar with self hatred and despair.
When I look upon life and all the cruelty and lost hope; when I see the defenseless innocents wounded and abused in all times, places, and cultures; when I see madness and violence, and hear of lost hope and lies; and when I read history and learn how fickle Fate often rewards the brutal and tears down the good; as I experience, see, and learn of all this, I often wonder about suffering, anguish and pain.
And then I look at the world and see it's great beauty. Everything from the scent of a flower to an autumn leaf... the colors on a rock and the symphony the wind makes when it moves through the trees.. the soft light of the stars and the feel of a tree.
And then everything I see becomes beautiful to me. Even too the harsh cruelty of the world: The agony and heartbreak; all the loss and the failings of individuals.
It all becomes beautiful to me.
I have come to the understanding that without suffering and pain, without all the self hatred and despair; without the loss of hope; without addictions and pain; without all the lies people tell themselves...without all this suffering the great beauty of existence would not be made manifest.
Suffering is the root of all the beauty in the world.
All life has to endure suffering...perhaps even too the Earth suffers in the crashing of tectonic plates and in the raveging of the land.
Suffering is a constant in the condition of life.
Without suffering the flower would have no perfume and the stars would have no luster. Without suffering the wolf would not howl and the desert wind would not conjure up the rain. Without suffering water would not quench the thirst.
Without suffering no beauty would exist in the world, for suffering is the fountain from which all beauty comes.
All wisdom and poetry is born of suffering. It is from suffering that music is born. All that is beautiful in the human spirit arises from suffering. All compassion, love and self-sacrifice is born from the failings of people, of life, and of the death of the stars themselves.
Through suffering all Life is connected. It is suffering that teaches the bird to sing.
That was my realization last night.
***
Oh God, I love the Rain; I love the Lightening. I love the sweet storms that come from the Ocean and the Desert.
I Love the Rain.
There is such Beauty and Wisdom in every single Raindrop, and then...it is gone.