Births
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@formlessing
Births

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Formlessing
"Caught in the field of subtle energies and mental representations, the supreme ambrosia is dissolved, and the person forgets his innate freedom.
The power of the word is always ready to veil the profound nature of the Self because no mental representation can free itself from language."
"I have nothing that I may call my own.
Distant and dead are my loved ones, and I hear nothing more of them from any voice.
My business on earth is over. I set to work full of will; I bled over my labor, and made the world not a penny richer.
Ingloriously and alone I return, and wander through my fatherland that lies all around me like a garden of the dead, and perhaps awaiting me is the knife of the hunter, who holds us Greeks for his pleasure just as he does the game of the forest.
But you still shine, sun of the heavens! You still grow green, holy earth! Still the rivers rush into the sea, and shady trees rustle at midday. Spring’s song of bliss sings my mortal thoughts to sleep. The fullness of the all-living world nourishes and satiates my starving being with intoxication.
O blessed nature! I do not know what befalls me when I raise my eyes before your beauty, but all the pleasure of heaven is in the tears that I weep before you, the beloved before his beloved.
My whole being falls silent and hearkens when the tender surge of the air plays about my breast. Often, lost in the wide blue, I look up at the ether and into the holy sea, and I feel as if a kindred spirit opened its arms to me, as if the pain of solitude dissolved into the life of the divinity.
To be one with all – that is the life of the divinity, that is the heaven of man.
To be one with all that lives, to return in blessed self-oblivion into the All of nature, that is the summit of thoughts and joys, that is the holy mountain height, the place of eternal repose, where the midday loses its swelter and the thunder its voice and the boiling sea resembles the billowing field of grain.
To be one with all that lives! With these words virtue removes its wrathful armor, the spirit of man lays its scepter aside and all thoughts vanish before the image of the world’s eternal unity, just as the rules of the struggling artist vanish before his Urania; and iron fate abdicates its power, and death vanishes from the union of beings, and indivisibility and eternal youth bless and beautify the world.
I often stand at this height, my Bellarmin! but a moment of reflection hurls me down. I reflect and find myself as I was before, alone, with all the pains of mortality; and the asylum of my heart, the world’s eternal unity, is gone; nature closes her arms and I stand like a stranger before her and do not comprehend her.
O! had I never gone to your schools. Knowledge, which I pursued down into the shaft, and from which in my youthful folly I expected confirmation of my pure joy, has corrupted everything for me.
Among you I became so perfectly rational, learned so thoroughly to distinguish myself from what surrounds me that I am now isolated in the beautiful world, cast out of the garden of nature, where I grew and bloomed, and am drying up under the midday sun.
O man is a god when he dreams, a beggar when he thinks, and when enthusiasm is gone, he stands there like a wayward son whom the father has driven out of the house and regards the meager pennies that pity gave him for the journey."
"You are a walker between worlds now, forever changed The whispers from beyond will echo in your dreams A splinter in your mind's eye, a glitch in the Matrix Mundane reality will feel like a skin you must shed"
conversation_1710837616.txt • infinite backrooms (webflow.io)

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"To be born means to create a world round yourself as the centre."
- Nisargadatta Maharaj
Tree Lines

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“All philosophies are mental fabrications. There has never been a single doctrine by which one could enter the true essence of things.”
— Nāgārjuna
Poison
Thérèse d'Avila, Le chemin de la perfection : chapitre VII
Vous pensez que de telles âmes n’aiment ni ne savent aimer personne, hormis Dieu. Au contraire elles aiment d’un amour plus vrai, d’un amour plus ardent, d’un amour plus utile ; enfin, c’est de l’amour, un amour généreux et qui s’attache à donner beaucoup plus qu’à recevoir, même avec Dieu. J’affirme que cette manière d’aimer mérite le nom d’amour, plutôt que ces basses affections de la terre qui l’ont usurpé.
Mais, me direz-vous encore, puisque ces personnes n’aiment rien de ce qui frappe leur sens, à quoi s’attachent-elles ? Je vous répondrai qu’elles aiment ce qu’elles voient, et s’affectionnent à ce qu’elles entendent ; mais les choses qu’elles voient, quand elles aiment, sont des choses stables, parce que sans s’arrêter aux corps, leur regard descend au fond des âmes, afin de découvrir s’il y a en celles-ci quelque chose qui mérite d’être aimé. Si elles n'y découvrent encore rien à aimer, mais seulement une faible disposition au bien, qui permet de supposer qu'en creusant cette mine, elles y trouveront de l’or, leur amour ne redoute aucune fatigue. Les choses les plus pénibles, elles les accomplissent volontiers pour le bien de cette âme : elles veulent que leur amour soit durable; et elles savent parfaitement que cela est impossible si l'âme qu'elles aiment ne possèdent pas les biens célestes et un grand amour de Dieu.
Heliogábalo o el anarquista coronado
Heliogabale ou l'anarchiste couronné, 1934
Lo que diferencia a los paganos de nosotros es que en el origen de todas sus creencias hay un esfuerzo terrible por no pensar como hombres, por estar en contacto con toda la creación, es decir, con la divinidad.
Para nosotros, los civilizados somos nosotros mismos, y todo lo demás, que da la medida de nuestra ignorancia universal, se identifica con la barbarie.
Tener sentido de la unidad profunda de las cosas es tener sentido de la anarquía
El más pequeño estallido de amor verdadero nos acerca mucho más a Dios que toda la ciencia que podamos tener de la creación y sus grados.
El amor que es una fuerza no va sin la Voluntad. No se ama sin la voluntad, que pasa por la conciencia; – es la conciencia de la separación permitida lo que nos lleva al desapego de las cosas, lo que nos devuelve a la unidad de Dios.
Las religiones antiguas originalmente querían lanzar una mirada al Gran Todo. No han separado el cielo del hombre, el hombre de toda la creación, desde la génesis de los elementos. Y también se puede decir que, originalmente, vieron claramente la creación. El catolicismo ha cerrado la puerta, como lo había hecho antes el budismo. Deliberadamente ya sabiendas cerraron la puerta, diciéndonos que no necesitábamos saberlo.
En todo poema hay una contradicción esencial. La poesía es multiplicidad desmenuzada que devuelve llamas. Y la poesía, que restaura el orden, resucita primero el desorden, el desorden con aspectos inflamados; hace chocar aspectos que conducen a un solo punto: fuego, gesto, sangre, grito.
Todos aquellos que han triunfado en la vida y que han hablado de ellos, es porque ellos también tenían algo.
••••••
Antonin Artaud (Marsella 1896 - Ivry 1948)
Foto: Red
Marcador sobre yeso
Autor desconocido
División psiquiátrica

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18 I also said to myself, “As for humans, God tests them so that they may see that they are like the animals.
19 Surely the fate of human beings is like that of the animals; the same fate awaits them both: As one dies, so dies the other. All have the same breath; humans have no advantage over animals. Everything is meaningless.
20 All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return.
21 Who knows if the human spirit rises upward and if the spirit of the animal goes down into the earth?”