An audio commonplace for small but significant passages from books, or poems. For me, anyway.
Also snippets of conversation that have touched me deeply.
That kind of thing.
I wanna keep the life-changing words to hear and rehear, don’t you?
Thank you for stopping by and listening to these seashells, these burning bushes, uttering their utterings until there be no more desire/breath to utter.
They are always seeking to innovate at an imaginal level which of course brings great innovation but also a great deal of suffering.
I spoke for 12 minutes in this 60 minute conversation. Other than questions and phatic communication, this was my input
Cf. https://drive.google.com/file/d/1ZeM0s0EYxKvNfXg7JXeN5WaBgm1M8Jr2/view?usp=drivesdk
I don’t think this would register well at a woke level, but it is such an incredible passage.
My life is one single day. And that’s how the past for me is present and future. All in a single dizziness. And the sweetness is such that it causes an unbearable itch in the soul. Living is magical and wholly inexplicable. I understand death better. Being everyday is an addiction. What am I? I’m a thought. Do I have the breath within me? do I? but who does? who speaks for me? do I have a body and a spirit? am I an I? “That’s exactly right, you are an I,” the world answers me terribly. And I am horrified. God must never be thought because either He flees or I do. God must be ignored and felt. Then He acts. I wonder: why does God demand our love? possible answer: so that we might love ourselves and in loving ourselves, forgive ourselves. And how we need forgiveness. Because life itself already comes muddled with error. (A Breath of Life)
The stinger of the bee in the flowering day that is today. Thank God, I have enough to eat. Our daily bread. (A Breath of Life)
From Kate Folk short story Out There: https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2020/03/23/out-there
Happy Valentines! Kate Folk - Out There https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2020/03/23/out-there
They are now not prey but predators, and they too shout, “You are mine, mine, mine!” (From Savage Theories)
Only one thing could wrench her out of it: concrete love towards a concrete person. (from Immortality)
Seeing something as it is depends on also seeing through it, to something beyond, the context, the roundness or depth, in which exist.
A Toffee Shock gets bigger and bigger and bigger as you suck it, instead of smaller and smaller – and when it is so big that there is hardly room for it in your mouth it suddenly explodes – and goes to nothing.
Pootling around with one’s philosophical poodle. Doesn’t sound like a bad way to live one’s life.
A once magical compulsion becomes the intimacy of prayer. The bundle of utilisable forces bearing a personal name becomes a You, and so a de-magic-isation of existence takes place.
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows, who violently sweep the house empty of its furniture?
How does one know what is and is not Khmer? Have most Khmer people always known, deep down, that they’re Khmer? Are there feelings Khmer people experience that others don’t?
As a camel moves when it’s finally been untied from its post and gets to just amble about freely.
“I stayed up there for years and became as wise as a Chinese hermit. Then I decided it was not a natural human way of living, to be so isolated, so I came back down.”
I imagine behind this vestibule, in the sacred shadow, one may say, of the araucaria, a home full of shining mahogany, and a life full of sound respectability…
Every age, every culture, every custom and tradition has its own character, its own weakness and its own strength, its beauties and ugliness; accepts certain sufferings as matters of course, puts up patiently with certain evils.o