Nietzsche’s Questionnaire (reblog)

Daniel Paul Marshall’s blog... click link to read the complete post. “Nietzsche concludes book III (268-275) of The Gay Science by posing 8 questions to himself & answering them. I found, answering them as if they were philosophically incentivized Rorschach blotches, quite revealing.”

Finally posting my answers to the 8 questions… (and yours?)

What makes one heroic? Saving yourself from doubt.

In what do you believe? Myself. My ability to contradict the obvious and assert i am nothing.

What does your conscience say? To pardon, is the first act of grace.

Where are your greatest dangers? My ability to listen and hear with my eyes.

What do you love in others? A sense of humor.

Whom do you call bad? The unmistakable persistence of a man caught in a game of chance.

What do you consider most humane? The ability to live.

What is the seal of liberation? Saying goodbye despite having just said hello.

musing on over

She is not crazy. She is a Pisces.

Being a self-proclaimed writer/painter has its casualties. You become lost to foreign worlds and your only escape is reality.

So i have grown to know a few of my blog followers more intimately. And i am honored they have come into my life and shared tidbits of soul with me. And i have shared too. A tad bit.

I have never vigorously pursued horoscopes but recently a few people shared their signs and i must say i am captured. Scorpio and Pisces are my two favorite signs. And being a Pisces i relate to both of them well.

Love is an illusion, platonic friend. Stay a while and rumble through my head.

I have a series of these photos. I love looking at them for hours. Getting lost in the movement. The changing shapes mimic me, day by day. Often hour by hour. I can feel the caress as they wind their way past my eyes and settle where they may.

What do you see?

Transformation

Access life
as if, before the storm,
no longer remains.

Let me know
mold me in your image
pull the strings
sewn into my back
i live to please you
in this moment
watch the stars dance
in this night of black

How can we experience triumph?

Theodicy is an intellectual understanding of suffering. The reconstruction of self and time, remain elusive, but attainable.

We experience our new selves physically, emotionally and spiritually through time. If we fail to let go of the past, it will repeatedly reappear as a ghost in our mind. Our goal is to allow whatever was, become history. If we fail this task, we invite misery to make a home in our hearts.

Life has become exceptionally difficult. Changes abound and more changes intend to roll out.

I became trapped in my own selfish misery. I once held onto hope. Positioned as a shiny metal object, glistening in the sun, it promised better days. I prayed to it. Ran my fingers over the smooth surface. Worshiped the image broadcast back to my heart.

I learned that day about rust as tears flowed. Death approaches angrily, despite appearances. I wish i hadn’t fallen so hard. Knives are all too predictable. Perhaps there is the lesson. Learn all you can before you are trapped.

obsession

curling iron forge
masked motives incinerate
reach new thoughts, higher

This was my evening, days ago. I burned every stick and autumn leaf along with left over wood from long-ago projects, saved for years in the garage, for those just-in-case chances we needed a piece of 2×4. Indiana is soon to be in my rear-view mirror. Friends will be left behind. I hope Boston treats me well.

Three days. Three motivations. Day 2.

A Guy called Bloke nominated me to share my motivations and I happily oblige, feeling motivated to share my inner thoughts. Why not? πŸ˜œπŸ’•βœŒπŸΌ

Glad you bother to read my posts at all! What, with all your responsibilities, who am i to take up your time?

This is the path unfolding before me. A red carpet spread to the ends of the earth, piled high with rocks and sand and twigs and leaves. Accompanied by the fragrance of flowers and promise of new Days. While Nights wander aimlessly toward silence and i reside peacefully as billions of stars awaken.

Oh! This too! Or better yet, make some of your own art! Grab a brush, paint, and go! 🎨 β˜”οΈπŸŒ΅πŸŒΌπŸ„πŸπŸ‚πŸΎ JπŸ•ŠπŸŽΆπŸŽΆπŸŽΆ

Attending the Opera

β€” Read on Fabric on the Daily Post

What are we willing to give up? What would i find behind your curtain as i swing it aside? Have you, will you, consider letting me know?

I wait. Anticipate. Is this a game eagerly played by two? Or only i?

Am i setting myself up for your opera. Life over as fast as it started. Slow. Drawn out misery. Ending with a cry of freedom!

A peek behind the madness of death exists behind every curtain. It matters not your fabric woven. The rapacious appetite for breath carries us along.

I do not plan to go anywhere. Neither behind your curtain. Or stand before it. I want to be your covering. Shield you from peering eyes.

Confusion

Life is simple. Yet it is not. The road map laid before you, is followed and then unexpected rocks, no boulders, bar the way. You push. And push, and push, and push. In due time life moves again. You move with it. You synchronize your heart with the sun and moon and stars.

Chase. This.