world's fair

crime, punishment

where is it i've read that someone condemned to death says or think, an hour before his death, that if he had to live on some high rock, on such a narrow ledge that he'd only room to stand, and the ocean, everlasting darkness, everlasting solitude, everlasting tempest around him, if he had to remain standing on a square yard of space all his life, a thousand years, eternity, it were better to live so than to die at once! only to live, to live and live! life, whatever it may be! (crime and punishment, fyodor dostoyevsky)

a man of the people

the times call for change.

while the aptness
conveys
for a more convoluted kind
of graft ~
evidently sensed by an awakened collective,
ignored by the blinded and or the apathetic,
dismissed by the themselves perpetrators,
in the general;

it feels
for a struggle within corrupted institutions with internally feigned ignorance(s).

the times call.

freedom in exile

as i too similarly pray for peace, altruism, love and compassion and the elimination of anger, selfishness and greed:

For as long as space endures,
And for as long as living beings remain,
Until then may I, too, abide
To dispel the misery of the world.

(freedom in exile, the dalai lama)

midnight's children

... who what am i? my answer: i am the sum total of everything that went before me, of all i have been seen done, of everything done-to-me. i am everyone everything whose being-in-the-world afected was affected by mine. i am anything that happens after i've gone which would not have happened if i had not come. nor am i particularly exceptional in this matter; each 'i', every one of the now-six-hundred-million-plus of us, contains a similar multitude. i repeat for the last time: to understand me, you'll have to swallow a world.

in creating... from rilke to rilke

...Always trust yourself and your own feeling, as opposed to argumentations, discussions, or introductions of that sort; if it turns out that you are wrong, then the natural growth of your inner life will eventually guide you to other insights. Allow your judgments their own silent, undisturbed development, which, like all progress, must come from deep within and cannot be forced or hastened. Everything is gestation and then birthing. To let each impression and each embryo of a feeling come to completion, entirely in itself, in the dark, in the unsayable, the unconscious, beyond the reach of one's own understanding, and with deep humility and patience to wait for the hour when a new clarity is born: this alone is what it means to live as an artist: in understanding as in creating.

rainer maria rilke, letters to a young poet (iii)