We opened our eyes to the world from where we crashed with clipped wings staring at the chasm we try to scale in vain
Thrownness (German: Geworfenheit) is a concept introduced by German philosopher Martin Heidegger (1889–1976) to describe humans’ individual existences as being ‘thrown’ (geworfen) into the world in the sense of its having been born into a specific family in a particular culture at a given moment of human history. See: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thrownness
Your barbwire handmade wound by wound keeps me out you in a leftover from when the animals grazed on your fields
Sometimes you are pregnant of an idea
and than
a smaller version of you comes out
Life from start to end is complete like a circle with no end or beginning but for us looking at only parts of what we see the sliver that makes sense the blur we somehow embrace that life is a mystery but only because we can say it is
Some people are so focused on the lock that they don’t realize that the door is open
219 Not settled. -We are glad to live in a small town; but from time to time, it drives us out into the most solitary and unexposed parts of nature: especially when the town has become too transparent for us once again. Finally, we go to a large city in order to recover, in turn, from nature. A few gulps of the latter -and we sense the dregs of its cup -and the circle begins anew, with the small town at the beginning. -This is how modern people live: who are somewhat too thorough about everything to be as settled as people were in other times.
The bars that I see in the shadow though fleeting in the dark have kept me inside for as long as I know I try to grab them like the ones I am holding now but they are not there to grab they are not there and that’s why I can’t brake them
When you hit it wrong but keep on going you will eventually bend the point you were making
I sometimes read the temperature of a room wrong so I say but I know I never looked at the damn thermometer
Is it luck that a branch
of a tree
grows
to where the sun is
I wish I had such a nice
and round
filter
“Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.”
Lao Tzu
7 The error of free will. Today we no longer have any pity for the concept of “free will”: we know only too well what it really is–the foulest of all theologians’ artifices aimed at making mankind “responsible” in their sense, that is, dependent upon them. Here I simply supply the psychology of all “making responsible.”
Wherever responsibilities are sought, it is usually the instinct of wanting to judge and punish which is at work. Becoming has been deprived of its innocence when any being-such-and-such is traced back to will, to purposes, to acts of responsibility: the doctrine of the will has been invented essentially for the purpose of punishment, that is, because one wanted to impute guilt. The entire old psychology, the psychology of will, was conditioned by the fact that its originators, the priests at the head of ancient communities, wanted to create for themselves the right to punish–or wanted to create this right for God. Men were considered “free” so that they might be judged and punished–so that they might become guilty: consequently, every act had to be considered as willed, and the origin of every act had to be considered as lying within the consciousness (and thus the most fundamental counterfeit in psychologicis was made the principle of psychology itself).
Today, as we have entered into the reverse movement and we immoralists are trying with all our strength to take the concept of guilt and the concept of punishment out of the world again, and to cleanse psychology, history, nature, and social institutions and sanctions of them, there is in our eyes no more radical opposition than that of the theologians, who continue with the concept of a “moral world-order” to infect the innocence of becoming by means of “punishment” and “guilt.” Christianity is a metaphysics of the hangman.
I stand here carrying what never will be mine you you who I never know you give me power but not for me you don’t even know and not because it disappears in the darkness
The snow was falling in front of a dark background the contrast pronounced the snow was melting on my skin now looking up I enjoyed it even more like you do in those few first seconds the snow came down alone but together they fell landing on a dark soil were only the first
This house was empty empty for a long time the outside leaked through the cracks the doors never used stuck only the dark attic gave me alone to be with myself
Nochrisis 