Day 2446, grey?

Daily picture, Quotes

Friedrich Nietzsche

Beyond good and evil

213. It is difficult to learn what a philosopher is, because it cannot be taught: you have to “know” by experience, – or you should be proud that you do not know it at all. But nowadays everyone talks about things that they cannot experience, and most especially (and most terribly) when it comes to philosophers and philosophical matters. Hardly anyone knows about them or is allowed to know, and all popular opinions about them are false. So, for instance, the genuinely philosophical compatibility between a bold and lively spirituality that runs along at a presto, and a dialectical rigor and necessity that does not take a single false step – this is an experience most thinkers and scholars would find unfamiliar and, if someone were to mention it, unbelievable. They think of every necessity as a need, a painstaking having-to-follow and being-forced; and they consider thinking itself as something slow and sluggish, almost a toil and often enough “worth the sweat of the noble.” Not in their wildest dreams would they think of it as light, divine, and closely related to dance and high spirits! “Thinking” and “treating an issue seriously,” “with gravity” – these belong together, according to most thinkers and scholars: that is the only way they have “experienced” it –…

Day 2444, concrete.

Daily picture, Poetry

Today I wanted to do something different. I took a random number generator and let it choose 3 old posts. The idea was to combine the three pictures and the three poems, or how you might call them. This is a photoshopped picture and a merger of three poems from Day 876, 1524, and 1580. The rule I set for myself for both the picture and the poems was not to add things; taking away was ok and reusing to.  And before I forget it, these poems have nothing to do with where I am now, they are just experiences that have somehow carved there tracks in me and my past. 

Some of my lines
woke me 
in my dream

a massive leaving 
my concrete structure
its weight

it seems to hover
pressed in bed
mid-air

I am just
just leaving 
you 

Day 2434, in my fantasy.

Daily picture, Poetry

Memories sometimes rush into me 
carried by a smell
a glance
a word

today one rushed forwards 
helped by a movement
an old tool I saw 
its movement 

I remember it
it was from the days when I played 
played on the floor
fantasy worlds with plastic toys
I saw it there
it was in my mind
I do remember

when I think about it
I have many memories of things
things that happened in my fantasy 
maybe I spend most of my time 
there
I don’t remember