There are often two
of everything
to choose from
I am my mood
who chooses
who are you
Day 3814, I am my.
Daily picture, PoetryDay 3813, I know you.
Daily picture, Quotes
Friedrich Nietzsche
Daybreak
Book V
543 Do not make passion an argument for truth!– O you good-natured and even noble enthusiasts, I know you! You want to win your argument against us, but also against yourself, and above all against yourself!- and a subtle and tender bad conscience so often incites you against your enthusiasm! How ingenious you then become in the outwitting and deadening of this conscience! How you hate the honest, the simple, the pure, how you avoid their innocent eyes! That knowing better whose representatives they are and whose voice you hear all too loudly within you, how it casts doubt on your belief- how you seek to make it suspect as a bad habit, as a sickness of the age, as neglect and infection of your own spiritual health! You drive yourself to the point of hating criticism, science, reason! You have to falsify history so that it may bear witness for you, you have to deny virtues so that they shall not cast into the shade those of your idols and ideals! Coloured pictures where what is needed is rational grounds! Ardour and power of expression! Silvery mists! Ambrosial nights! You understand how to illuminate and how to obscure, and how to obscure with light! And truly, when your passion rises to the point of frenzy, there comes a moment when you say to yourself: now I have conquered the good conscience, now I am light of heart, courageous, self-denying, magnificent, now I am honest! How you thirst for those moments when your passion bestows on you perfect self-justification and as it were innocence; when in struggle, intoxication, courage, hope, you are beside yourself and beyond all doubting; when you decree: ‘he who is not beside himself as we are can in no way know what and where truth is!’ How you thirst to discover people of your belief in this condition – it is that of intellectual vice – and ignite your flame at their torch! Oh your deplorable martyrdom! Oh your deplorable victory of the sanctified lie! Must you inflict so much suffering upon yourself? – Must you?
Day 3812, the rest.
Daily picture, Poetry
I can show you my inside
but only the parts
that enjoy
the sunshine
the rest I
don’t even know
Day 3811, my.
Daily picture, Poetry
My roots
are underwater
Day 3810, too.
Daily picture, Poetry
Only when I look
beside me
I realize that I am going
too fast
Day 3809, slow.
Daily picture, Poetry
I am exploding
in slow motion
Day 3808, the one.
Daily picture, Poetry
I often feel
fallen apart
luckily
my outside isn’t
says the one
who never comes outside
Day 3807, you will see.
Daily picture, Poetry
Life is like a painting
a scenery of sorts
but don’t come closer to inspect
the details of what you see
all you will see are strokes
first thoughts
building blocks
outlines
at best
Day 3806, need of.
Daily picture, Quotes
Friedrich Nietzsche
Daybreak
Book V
535 Truth has need of power. – In itself truth is no power at all – whatever its flatterers of the Enlightenment may be accustomed to say to the contrary!- It has, rather, to draw power over to its side, or go over to the side of power, or it will perish again and again! This has been proved sufficiently and more than sufficiently!
Day 3806, you just.
Daily picture, Poetry
Sometimes you just get happy
from something
that you know
will soon
be gone
is that not remarkable
Day 3805, daily.
Daily picture, Poetry
I suspect
that I am the only one
who watches the show
that I perform
on a daily
basis
Day 3804, Mountain Angel.
Daily picture, music
Pretty as an angel from the day that she was born
Skin as fair as lilies, hair as golden as the corn
They knew that she was special
From the moment she first cried
She was a mountain angel, certified
She was her momma’s baby, she was her daddy’s pride
Good at home, at church and school, at everything she tried
Everybody’s darlin’ led a charmed and peaceful life
The perfect mountain angel ’til he arrived
And ohh, she fell so deeply
Ooh, she couldn’t stop
She gave herself to him, yielded completely
He lifted her so high and let her drop
She gave up everything for him that mattered in her life
All the others that had loved her and she vowed to be his wife
She dreamed of bearing children in an ivy-covered house
The mountain angel’s sunshine turned to clouds
The wicked, handsome stranger left the way he came
Broke her heart and broke her mind
She never was the same
They say he was the devil
That had come to steal her soul
She never loved another it was told
Skin as fair as lilies, hair as golden as the corn
They knew that she was special
From the moment she first cried
She was a mountain angel, certified
She was her momma’s baby, she was her daddy’s pride
Good at home, at church and school, at everything she tried
Everybody’s darlin’ led a charmed and peaceful life
The perfect mountain angel ’til he arrived
And ohh, she fell so deeply
Ooh, she couldn’t stop
She gave herself to him, yielded completely
He lifted her so high and let her drop
She gave up everything for him that mattered in her life
All the others that had loved her and she vowed to be his wife
She dreamed of bearing children in an ivy-covered house
The mountain angel’s sunshine turned to clouds
The wicked, handsome stranger left the way he came
Broke her heart and broke her mind
She never was the same
They say he was the devil
That had come to steal her soul
She never loved another it was told
Day 3803, R.I.P.
Daily picture, Poetry
Repost from day 3175.
I sometimes wonder
out loud
inside
are memories not better
then what is happening now
is life not best viewed in hindsight
is even the best experience not consumed
by the one just following
and following
lost in the moment
leftovers in memory
is the completion
the memory of the rush
cooled down
not better
can it not be remembered over and over
like a picture on the wall
but I was wondering
when is enough
enough
are 10 good memories not enough
or 50
a 100
a 1000
?
Something else… I have written to my memory that from now on, the only good thing coming from America is Dolly Parton; the rest is just bullshit…well OK, that expression is also something of value left over from what was once called the land of the free.
Day 3802, for all.
Daily picture, Poetry
There is something about this door
that is not inviting
I wish that were the case
for all the doors
I didn’t open
Day 3801, at the table.
Daily picture, Poetry
We all sit at the table
it feeds us
it feels us
it gives us
it’s where we decide
the words we use
to say
nothing
Day 3800, with many.
Daily picture, Quotes
Friedrich Nietzsche
Daybreak
Book V
530 Thinker’s digressions. -With many thinkers, the course of their thought as a whole is rigorous and inexorably bold, indeed sometimes cruel towards themselves, while in detail they are gentle and flexible; with benevolent hesitation they circle around a thing ten times, though in the end they resume their rigorous path. They are rivers with many meanderings and secluded hermitages; there are places in their course where the river plays hide-and-seek with itself and creates for itself a brief idyll, with islands, trees, grottos and waterfalls: and then it goes on again, past rocky cliffs and breaking its way through the hardest stone.