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Reflections at night when the dark is good and we see further. A short meditation.
Brief Tales on a Whim.
Meditations on the 60th Anniversary of Hiroshima What would the end of the world entail? Do we boast that we can imagine such a thing?
3 short stories. $3
In the apprenticeship period hopes are high.
The manuscripts are under $8.
THE SHORT, HAPPY HISTORY OF A WRITING LIFE by David Eide:
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The thing is to take the raw and cook it up nice and round and tasty.
Anything not formally embedded is raw. Journals, daybooks, notes, scribbles and so on. The raw, as this writing is, serves a purpose, is an investment, a block of stone to be carefully and artfully placed.
If nothing is said, then it is part of the anonymous unsaid and lies quietly in a valley of the heart. It is deep but has little pity and weeps for no one. Little deaths fly by as hummingbirds and feed on the tiny hands of life.
I am bored of the dead eras. I am bored of the predictable slants. I am bored of the insincerity. I am bored of the stale jokes. I am bored of the spokesperson and the “commentator.” I am bored of their inability to express the silence and pause in things. I am bored of the willfulness of mediocrity. I am bored of what they have done with language, poetry, freedom, imagination, tolerance and a few more good things.
You have to ignore 99% of stuff in today’s world. It is retread, it is recycled, it is plain stupid, it is vain and riddled with agenda, it is con, it is spurious, the alpha is vomit and the omega is shit.
Americans are dead the moment they get bored of freedom.
Rather than getting bored of freedom they need to honor it by stripping to nothing and pushing the hard envelope of it forward. Tolerance of nothing, tolerance of all.
New pathways to all the human attributes!
Focus only on that which helps you. Politics doesn’t help you. The official culture doesn’t help you.
We are thrown into something. We act and think. We know, after awhile, that what we pass through is both eternal and very transitory. Yet the good always requires patience in the transitory. Can we know more and do more and be more productive with patience? What hurries us along is very telling.
Stand upright. Be bold and honest. Speak from experience and knowledge but don’t speak too much. What you experience and know is a fraction of the whole of what can be experienced and known.
Endings, yes, they come and are signaled by dissipation. Life as it has been lived no longer has its energy and meaning. The challenge is to burn out dread with new hopes, new aspirations, new plans.
It’s not important for how long these endings crack things up but how long it takes to renew the spirit in things when those endings are finally admitted.
So we admit that an ending has come.
Where does the ending stretch back to connect with its beginning?
The beginning was a kind of apocalypse from which new life would begin; life sprung whole between the rocks in pure nature. The Myths of the Modern World. And the wonderful depths with the masters who took us there. To the core where there is either Nothing or God. Nothing leads to freedom that is soon bound up in the undiscovered evil of human nature. God is treasure and fundament. And soon enough the pellet rifles come out, all in a row, sometimes like guerilla fighters behind walls and they shoot non-lethal but irritating shot at us. We don’t feel the first one but by the thousandth we know we are in for it.
Nothingness would turn us into riflemen Plus. God protects us and shows us that the wounding makes us stronger.
Perhaps every generation will ask the question of its predecessor, “why didn’t you try to save us from our tragic fate? Why didn’t you do even a fraction of what will be necessary to get from under this terrible cloud?”
That is when the encapsulations will drop off and they will be, momentarily, free and face the tragic facts on their own.
“I would ride on the White Dwarf when evening come.”
There are many more nooses today than at any time in history.
We are more agile than those in the past to slip them.
But then we are always running from the noose we have slipped.
And are only satisfied when we have our own noose in hand looking for the fool who will slip into it.
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