"Will the naturally-organized dissent die like the stuff of a fantastic candle burning too long and now collapsing and now blown out for lack of air in the coolness of a marbled mausoleum as a solemn monument to humanity?"
Burning out and fading away are both likely options, but are only upsetting to the dissident attached quite firmly to the role of "candle", though such may be all that our dissident knows, and he is naturally not too pleased at such a prospect as the guttering out within the Marbled Mausoleum, for which many may share a similar reluctance.
Writing on the current accepted script of this life, as flawed as It may appear at any given moment, seems a healthy enough approach in order for one to maintain a semblance of honor and self respect, if one is holding to writings other than "fiction", or so I will maintain.
In the end, it will have to be said that "All is vanity".
Is a soul's redemption within the grasp of the possession... or the possessor?
Time is not mine to wait around and find out, so I might be wise to do my very best to keep this ethereal cloak in as good of condition as I might, without dwelling overlong on the damage already done, aside from one's possible healing from such, when possible, and to not commit further damage(!), which is always easier to discuss than to accomplish, given the human predilection towards such as we may hunger and thirst for, which is usually not in the soul's best interest, to begin with; at least that is how I see and feel it from my limited perspective.
Blessings and Strength, Libor. I enjoyed reading, but am not in a position to send help in the form of dollars and cents, only encouragement. Cheers!
Dec 30, 2022·edited Dec 30, 2022Liked by Libor Soural
I hear:
...early Thomas McGuane, Captain Berserko, type only forward, no edit, no censor, tap into the source, channel the creative flow, like a river it will find its course
...and Lawrence Durrell, typing like breathing, tasting the sea-wind, his words flow on
...and Elizabeth Smart, trapped in a loveless unfulfilling triangle of unrequited love and just pouring out pure pain in her one short book At Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept
...and Henry Miller pouring out his passion for life and love and the joy of being alive and poor in Paris
...and James Joyce squeezing every thought into one eternal day, but for me too confined, too real, too abstract, too minute; I prefer to taste and smell and see and hear the wide expansive creative rush and flow and glow of all the wonder
...and Libor, madly typing one-armed against the world in the jungle, creating fantastic new worlds, switching my academic left-brain to full-on right brain synaptic bursts of the glory of language
I am impressed! You convey something to me deeply yet I could not begin to describe exactly what. But then I struggle to be one of those perfectionists.
"Howdy"!!! This man is now in my sights as yet another waster of The Gift, which would not be worthy of my efforts if he were only destroying himself, but No, he must seek a following, as a Jim Jones.
I am here for truth, not comfort, but the two must not necessarily disagree.
A "simple" matter of perspective, I should suppose...
I hold that there are blessings to be found amongst the vermin and wastage, perhaps moreso than are to be found within the gilt halls of the Aristocracy, I will have to remain in wonder this life-long! Bon Adieux, fellow earthling.
"Will the naturally-organized dissent die like the stuff of a fantastic candle burning too long and now collapsing and now blown out for lack of air in the coolness of a marbled mausoleum as a solemn monument to humanity?"
Burning out and fading away are both likely options, but are only upsetting to the dissident attached quite firmly to the role of "candle", though such may be all that our dissident knows, and he is naturally not too pleased at such a prospect as the guttering out within the Marbled Mausoleum, for which many may share a similar reluctance.
Writing on the current accepted script of this life, as flawed as It may appear at any given moment, seems a healthy enough approach in order for one to maintain a semblance of honor and self respect, if one is holding to writings other than "fiction", or so I will maintain.
In the end, it will have to be said that "All is vanity".
Is a soul's redemption within the grasp of the possession... or the possessor?
Time is not mine to wait around and find out, so I might be wise to do my very best to keep this ethereal cloak in as good of condition as I might, without dwelling overlong on the damage already done, aside from one's possible healing from such, when possible, and to not commit further damage(!), which is always easier to discuss than to accomplish, given the human predilection towards such as we may hunger and thirst for, which is usually not in the soul's best interest, to begin with; at least that is how I see and feel it from my limited perspective.
Blessings and Strength, Libor. I enjoyed reading, but am not in a position to send help in the form of dollars and cents, only encouragement. Cheers!
I hear:
...early Thomas McGuane, Captain Berserko, type only forward, no edit, no censor, tap into the source, channel the creative flow, like a river it will find its course
...and Lawrence Durrell, typing like breathing, tasting the sea-wind, his words flow on
...and Elizabeth Smart, trapped in a loveless unfulfilling triangle of unrequited love and just pouring out pure pain in her one short book At Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept
...and Henry Miller pouring out his passion for life and love and the joy of being alive and poor in Paris
...and James Joyce squeezing every thought into one eternal day, but for me too confined, too real, too abstract, too minute; I prefer to taste and smell and see and hear the wide expansive creative rush and flow and glow of all the wonder
...and Libor, madly typing one-armed against the world in the jungle, creating fantastic new worlds, switching my academic left-brain to full-on right brain synaptic bursts of the glory of language
... write on
I am impressed! You convey something to me deeply yet I could not begin to describe exactly what. But then I struggle to be one of those perfectionists.
Your mind is wide ranging and eloquent, may require many readings to understand, that;s awesome.
Hey this is your early work? This is different from what you do now (Nov. 2023)
https://youtu.be/88_TPQL6rJY
"Howdy"!!! This man is now in my sights as yet another waster of The Gift, which would not be worthy of my efforts if he were only destroying himself, but No, he must seek a following, as a Jim Jones.
I am here for truth, not comfort, but the two must not necessarily disagree.
A "simple" matter of perspective, I should suppose...
I hold that there are blessings to be found amongst the vermin and wastage, perhaps moreso than are to be found within the gilt halls of the Aristocracy, I will have to remain in wonder this life-long! Bon Adieux, fellow earthling.
Excellent read!