SOPHOCLES – AESCHYLUS – EURIPIDES

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“You can kill a man but you cant kill a idea.”
Sophocles


“How dreadful the knowledge of the truth can be
When there’s no help in truth.”
Sophocles, Oedipus Rex


“We have only a little time to please the living. But all eternity to love the dead.”
Sophocles, Antigone


Death is not the worst thing; rather, when one who craves death cannot attain even that wish.”
Sophocles, Electra


“The happiest life is to be without thought”
Sophocles


“It’s not the oath that makes us believe the man, but the man the oath”
Aeschylus


“The reward of suffering is experience.”
Aeschylus



“Talk sense to a fool and he calls you foolish.”
Euripides, The Bacchae


“Hate is a bottomless cup; I will pour and pour”
Euripides, Medea

Iklan

WHOLESOME – WHOLENESS – NOTHING – DEATH QUOTES

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Searching for wholeness within yourself means that you stop relying on others to fill you or complete you. Instead of falling into a relationship with significant other to find meaning, you look for meaning within yourself, within the things you do, within your emotions and perspectives and opinions. And as you do this, you discover that you were never lacking. You never needed someone’s love to fill you, as if there were parts missing. You have always been, and will always be, completely whole and full on your own. —via thoughtcatalog


You appreciate yourself for the imperfect, complex, and astounding being you are.

Discovering your wholeness means falling in love with yourself. It means seeing, for the first time, how incredible you are. It means taking the time to put yourself first, to pamper yourself, and to celebrate each success. It means building yourself up after you fall and speaking words of love and encouragement to your heart when you’re down. It means understanding that you are imperfect, but taking pride in your flaws and failures, as they have created the person you are today. It means giving yourself the pure, raw love you’ve been giving everyone else for so long. It means seeing your worth—both body and soul.


You realize the magnitude of your spirit and the strength within your skin.

Finding your wholeness means realizing how incredibly strong you are. It means resurfacing and taking a breath of fresh air, confident and renewed. It means noticing the way your muscles move, the way your body shifts, the way your spirit brightens an entire room as you walk in. It means acknowledging all that you’ve pushed through and will continue to push through, every single day. Finding your wholeness means seeing, in a new and beautiful light, how truly astounding you are.


You discover that you were always whole, always complete, and never lacking on your own.

Searching for wholeness within yourself means that you stop relying on others to fill you or complete you. Instead of falling into a relationship with a significant other to find meaning, you look for meaning within yourself, within the things you do, within your emotions and perspectives and opinions. And as you do this, you discover that you were never lacking. You never needed someone’s love to fill you, as if there were parts missing. You have always been, and will always be, completely whole and full on your own.


“Like religion, war demands its persecutions, its holocausts, its lurid heroic cruelties; like them, it is noble, primitive, brutal, and mad. Now, as in the past, religion, lagging behind private consciences through the weight of tradition, steels the hearts of men against mercy and their minds against truth. If the world is to be saved, men must learn to be noble without being cruel, to be filled with faith and yet open to truth, to be inspired by great purposes without hating those who try to thwart them. But before this can happen, men must first face the terrible realization that the gods before whom they have bowed down were false gods and the sacrifices they have made were vain.”

—Bertrand Russell, Why Men Fight (1917), Chapter III, p.116

“Why Men Fight” was written in response to the devastation of World War I, “Why Men Fight” lays out Bertrand Russell’s ideas on war, pacifism, reason, impulse, and personal liberty. Russell argues that when individuals live passionately, they will have no desire for war or killing. Conversely, excessive restraint or reason causes us to live unnaturally and with hostility toward those who are unlike ourselves.

Image: Abandoned child sits holding his stuffed animal in the rubble of his home after a V2 bomb hit, London, January 1945. At the time of the photograph the child is unaware his parents lie buried dead underneath in this rubble. The orphaned boy survived the war.



I may be an abyss.
But at least I’m filed with nothings.
That still exist.

Reach inside my depths.
Grasp for something tangible.
Explore the negative.

Spaces.

Delve deeper.
Deeper.
All the biotic coolness to wrap
Lethargically.
Between your fingers.


Meaninglessness

The reason dying is so easy is because death has no meaning… And the reason death has no meaning is because life has no meaning. All the same, have fun!

Janne Teller, Nothing…


“Meaning is not something you can sell”
Janne Teller, Nothing


“We cried because we had lost something and gained something else. And because it hurt both losing and gaining. And because we knew what we had lost but weren’t as yet able to put into words what it was we had gained.”
Janne Teller, Nothing


“We were supposed to amount to something. Something was the same as someone, and even if nobody ever said so out loud, it was hardly left unspoken, either. It was just in the air, or in the time, or in fence surrounding the school, or in our pillows, or in the soft toys that after having served us so loyally had now been unjustly discarded and left to gather dust in attics or basements. I hadn’t known.”
Janne Teller, Nothing


Life has taught me that you can’t control someone’s loyalty, No matter how good you are to them, doesn’t mean that they will treat you the same,. No matter how much they mean to you, doesn’t mean that they will value you the same. Sometimes the people you love the most, turn out to be the people you can trust the least. Sometimes people come in our life to make us learn something, so that we can learn from them.


‘I remember mystep father had beated me with hanger, pieces of wood and all kind of stuffs. After every beating he would tell me, “you hurting me more than that i’ve hurted you. I did it cause I love you” it is kinda communicate me with kind of wrong message about what love was..’

‘So many years, I thought love was, It is all about hurt, and I hurt everybody that I love.. and I measured love by how much pain someone hurted by me.’


If you were to stab me in the back, i would say sorry for bleeding on you


 

CHORD AND LYRICS

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From our first breath we take, our graves have been dug, our bodies against us as we silently oxidize. Mentally and physically unprepared because we’re all just little animals running around under the stars like chickens with our heads cut off. No one really knows what to do, who to follow, what is right and wrong. We are slowly dying.

you know that feeling when you miss someone and everything about them the little things they did all the memories you shared and the feelings you felt the way they felt to u and made u feel comfortable that time stopped and you didn’t wanna be anywhere else now its all gone, and you feel empty empty because they took all the parts of yourself that you gave to them knowing you’ll never feel them again and the memories and just memories but in an alternate reality a part of your soul will always exist with theirs? anyone else

I remember the tears that froze on your cheek. Your smile and laugh that warmed my whole body. I remember the sad nights, but for some reason I remember being happy with you. The long conversations leading up to 4 am before our classes begun.The way you always looked so perfect in the morning, and how raspy and intoxicating your voice was. The way you fit in so perfectly. I envied you at first, but then I fell in love. You didn’t know it and you still don’t, but I thought you were tragically beautiful. You are my muse. You were so cool. You played the best music. You were my first love. Before, the summer was over you left. I cried a lot. Now I look for you in people, but there is no one else like you.

Ah well, since everyone’s doing it, might as well. . . To whom whose heart I have hurt with my foolish words, I still regret it until today. Some nights, I’m still haunted by the distance we both help created in the past, and it made me want to disappear, kinda. I keep thinking about “what-ifs” and what-nots about turning back time and making wiser decisions. I am sorry.

i wish i had someone to write cute things to i feel like no one loves me why me? i wish i had someone to hug, to kiss, to hold her hand, to touch, to play with her hair, to love.

you know when you’re getting stabbed and beaten by people and there is so much pain but they wont just stab you so you die, it’s like they want to drag it out, and then they start spraying Windex in your wounds and you’re just laying there defenseless wishing they would just give the fatal blow but they never do. and then you realise that maybe you’ve gotta give it to yourself. that’s how i feel, like i’m dying

*tenative lyrics derived from extensive listening * im really missin you it’s impossible for me to see you with her things I could do, things I could say to get you back it wouldn’t work anyway what is love all about? what is it all about? what am i missin anymore? what am i missin about you? dreaming of you, dreamin of you im so blue im so blue


oh necromancer put a spell on me with a kisses so sweet, they rot my teeth oh necromancer why are you so far away another day rolls by without me kissing your face oh girl won’t you meet me in the city the street lights and corner store signs make you look so pretty oh when will you just be with me i’m so infatuated i’d swim across the sea i guess you’re just fading all the way i guess i have nothing much to say you can call me tell me if you’re okay i just wish i could see you everyday = F#m G# E F#m – I might be wrong but I hope this helps: F#m7 ​ | G#7/D# | E | F#m7

The girl is the necromancer, she raises the dead, death and darkness being a metaphor for depression, and makes him feel happy. She’s not into him though “infatuated” and singing about kissing her “on the cheek”, basically he’s been friendzoned, but he’s so obsessed with her he’s almost happy with just that. But they’re getting older now, going off on their own separate ways, and he’s losing even the tiny bit of her he got to be a part of.


I think you’ve caught my sickness, you’ve been feeling so sad I think you’ve my problems, You’ve been getting really mad I’m not old enough to feel love, But i want to marry her I’m not old enough to be myself, Be with people i prefer I’m not old enough to go anywhere, Go to places I don’t like I’m not old enough to grow my hair Without being so overly compared So bury me, at 12:15 Just let me sleep, just let me sleep I’m not old enough to color myself Leave a scar, leave some ink I’m not old enough to make my own decisions Let myself become the one that has to think So bury me, at 12:15 Just me sleep, just me sleep


 

DINNER WITH ANDRE

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It’s not easy, as some people seem to think. You work hard writing plays, and nobody puts them on. So you just spend your days doing the errands of your trade. That I’m a private investigator, a detective I always enjoy finding out about people. Even if they’re in absolute agony, I always find it very… interesting.

THIS is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou
lovest best.
Night, sleep, death and the stars.


Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done

walt witman leads us away from all things in the world including the world.

He himself states that I am the child of soul and nature

This poem stole all the breath in my lungs and gave me dreams to breathe instead

A cloudless sky after the sun has set, as the hands of the clock bring one day to an end and another into being, such a sky leads away infinitely. Or comes to us from eternity. Walt, your words waltz through time

This is clearly a later poem by Whitman, when he has raised his gaze to the sky, the night sky, and contemplates the stars. It is preparatory to death, our human mortality in general and his own encounter in particular. His advice to his loyal readers: You have followed me on my journeys through the world, observing people at work, at play, in groups or alone, pursuing happiness and profit and life, Now come with me into the realm of silence, vastness, a new existence after the crossing the greatest of all threshold. I’ll go first. I’ll wait for you and take your hand if you’re scared. The fear won’t last long, I promise, but the wonder will be endless.

i am not sure what Walt means in this beautifully crafted poem.The only thing i can imagine is that there will be a time once in your life where you have to stop all the thing you are doin and drown into the place where you throw away your books, passion, art whatever you are because the day is done and lessons you have learned from your life is done.
you are coming back now but uou are silent, gazing and thikin over the things you love most in your life was it worth it after all there is Night wher you will sleep and one day you will die and above you there will be stars.

“I do not ask the wounded person how he feels, I myself become the wounded person.”
Walt Whitman, Song of Myself

On the beach at night, Stands a child with her father, Watching the east, the autumn sky. Up through the darkness, While ravening clouds, the burial clouds, in black masses spreading, Lower sullen and fast athwart and down the sky, Amid a transparent clear band of ether yet left in the east, Ascends large and calm the lord-star Jupiter, And nigh at hand, only a very little above, Swim the delicate sisters the Pleiades. From the beach the child holding the hand of her father, Those burial clouds that lower victorious soon to devour all, Watching, silently weeps. Weep not, child, Weep not, my darling, With these kisses let me remove your tears, The ravening clouds shall not long be victorious; They shall not long possess the sky, they devour the stars only in apparition, Jupiter shall emerge, be patient, watch again another night, the Pleiades shall emerge, They are immortal, all those stars both silvery and golden shall shine out again, The great stars and the little ones shall shine out again, they endure, The vast immortal suns and the long-enduring pensive moons shall again shine. Then dearest child mournest thou only for Jupiter? Considerest thou alone the burial of the stars? Somewhere there is, (With my lips soothing thee, adding I whisper, I give thee the first suggestion, the problem and indirection,) Something there is more immortal even than the stars, (Many the burials, many the days and nights, passing away,) Something that shall endure longer even than lustrous Jupiter, Longer than sun or any revolving satellite, Or the radient sisters of the Pleiades.


That feeling of being connected to everything… means to also be connected to death.

“ All these, however, were mere terrors of the night, phantoms of the mind that walk in darkness; and though he had seen many spectres in his time, and been more than once beset by Satan in divers shapes, in his lonely pre-ambulations, yet daylight put an end to all these evils; and he would have passed a pleasent life of it, in despite of the devil and all his works, if his path had not been crossed by a being that causes more perplexity to mortal man than ghosts, goblins, and the whole race of witches put together, and that was – a woman.”
Washington Irving, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow

You see – You see, I’ve seen a lot of death in the last few years and there’s one thing that’s for sure about death – You do it alone, you see. That seems quite certain, you see. That I’ve seen. That the people around your bed mean nothing. Your reviews mean nothing. Whatever it is, you do it alone. And so the question is, when I get on my deathbed, what kind of a person am I gonna be?

We’re just walking around in some kind of fog. I think we’re all in a trance. We’re walking around like zombies. I don’t – I don’t think we’re even aware of ourselves or our own reaction to things.

We – We’re just going around all day, like unconscious machines… and meanwhile there’s all of this rage and worry and uneasiness… just building up and building up inside us. That’s right. It just builds up, uh… and then it just leaps out inappropriately.

“But would you kindly ponder this question: What would your good do if
evil didn’t exist, and what would the earth look like if all the shadows
disappeared? After all, shadows are cast by things and people. Here is the
shadow of my sword. But shadows also come from trees and living beings.
Do you want to strip the earth of all trees and living things just because
of your fantasy of enjoying naked light? You’re stupid.”

Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita


“The tongue can conceal the truth, but the eyes never! You’re asked an unexpected question, you don’t even flinch, it takes just a second to get yourself under control, you know just what you have to say to hide the truth, and you speak very convincingly, and nothing in your face twitches to give you away. But the truth, alas, has been disturbed by the question, and it rises up from the depths of your soul to flicker in your eyes and all is lost.”
Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita


“Punch a man on the nose, kick an old man downstairs, shoot somebody or any old thing like that, that’s my job. But argue with women in love—no thank you!”
Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita


“Everything passes away – suffering, pain, blood, hunger, pestilence. The sword will pass away too, but the stars will remain when the shadows of our presence and our deeds have vanished from the Earth. There is no man who does not know that. Why, then, will we not turn our eyes toward the stars? Why?”
Mikhail Bulgakov, The White Guard


“How sad, ye Gods, how sad the world is at evening, how mysterious the mists over the swamps! You will know it when you have wandered astray in those mists, when you have suffered greatly before dying, when you have walked through the world carrying an unbearable burden. You know it too when you are weary and ready to leave this earth without regret; its mists; its swamps and its rivers; ready to give yourself into the arms of death with a light heart, knowing that death alone can comfort you.”
Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita


“The whole horror of the situation is that he now has a human heart, not a dog’s heart. And about the rottenest heart in all creation!”
Mikhail Bulgakov, Heart of a Dog


“I’ll go to bed, forget myself in sleep.”
Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita


We’re only allowed to express our feelings, uh… weirdly and indirectly. If you express them directly, everybody goes crazy. We can’t be direct, so we end up saying the weirdest things.

Everyone is sort of floating through this, fog of symbols and unconscious feelings. No one says what they’re really thinking about. 

I mean, those books are just so touching, because they show… how desperately curious we all are to know how all the others of us… are really getting on in life… even though, by performing these roles all the time… We’re just hiding the reality of ourselves from everybody else. I mean, we live in such ludicrous ignorance of each other.

We usually don’t know the things we’d like to know… even about our supposedly closest friends. Suppose you’re going through some kind of hell in your own life. Well, you would love to know if your friends have experienced similar things. But we just don’t dare to ask each other.

‘No. It would be like asking your friend to drop his role.’


That’s right. Our – Our minds are just focused on these goals and plans… which in themselves are not reality. No. Goals and plans are not – I mean, they’re – they’re fantasy. They’re part of a dream life. I mean, you know, it always just does seem so ridiculous, somehow, that everybody has to have his little – his little goal in life, that everybody has to have, his little – his little goal in life.

Right. And because people’s concentration is on their goals in their life they just live each moment by habit.  Life becomes habitual and it is today.

I mean, you know, in Sanskrit, the root of the verb “to be”… is the same as “to grow” or “to make grow.”

The Scottish mathematician and scientist Robert Ogilvie Crombie (1899-1975), better known as Roc, led a life of scientific inquiry until illness forced him out of a career in academia.  Roc is probably best known as one of the founders of the Findhorn Foundation, an intentional community and eco-village in northern Scotland. He was the elderly Scottish gentleman who claimed he spoke with nature spirits.  As a scientist, hermetic magician, and a researcher of the psychic realms, he was in many ways a key figure in the history of esotericism (white magic) in the twentieth century. He is not as famous as his darker counterparts like Aleister Crowley because he worked in solitude and privacy. He did not write books or manuals and he did not take students or attempt to found a group or an esoteric school. Imagine a modern-day Gandalf wearing tweeds and corduroy, walking through the Scottish Highlands with his walking stick.


I think that means that instead of living under the sun…  and the moon and the sky and the stars. We’re living in a fantasy world of our own making.

I mean, on the contrary, I’m looking for more comfort because, uh, the world is very abrasive. I mean, uh, I’m trying to protect myself.

Because, really, there are these abrasive beatings to be avoided everywhere you look.

But, don’t you – don’t you see that comfort can be dangerous?. I mean, you like to be comfortable and I like to be comfortable too, but comfort can lull you into a dangerous tranquillity.

See, I honestly believe that we’re all like Lady Hatfield now. We’re having a lovely, comfortable time with our electric blankets and our chicken and meanwhile we’re starving because we’re so cut off from contact with reality. That we’re not getting any real sustenance, ’cause we don’t see the world’.

We don’t see ourselves. We don’t see how our actions affect other people.

“All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.”
Martin Buber

“There are three principles in a man’s being and life:  The principle of thought, the principle of speech, and the principle of action. The origin of all conflict  between me and my fellow-men is that I do not say what I mean and I don’t do what I say.”
Martin Buber

“All actual life is encounter.”
Martin Buber

“Every man’s foremost task is the actualization of his unique, unprecedented and never-recurring potentialities, and not the repetition of something that another, and be it even the greatest, has already achieved.”
Martin Buber

“Mundus vult decipi: the world wants to be deceived.”
Martin Buber, I and Thou


I just think I’m a perfectly nice guy, uh, you know, just the small circle of the people that I know as friends or the few people that we know in this little world of our little hobbies.

And I’m really quite self-satisfied. I’m just quite happy with myself. I just have no complaint about myself. I mean, you know, let’s face it.

I mean, there’s a whole enormous world out there that I just don’t ever think about.

In which you show that people are totally isolated now, and they can’t reach each other and their lives are desperate? or how does it affect them to see a play that shows that our world is full of nothing but shocking sexual events, and terror, and violence?

Does that help to wake up a sleeping audience? See, I don’t think so, ’cause I think it’s very likely’ that the picture of the world that you’re showing them in a play like that is exactly the picture of the world they have already.  I mean, you know, they know their own lives and relationships are difficult and painful. And if they watch the evening news on television. Well, there what they see is a terrifying, chaotic universe. Full of rapes and murders and hands cut off by subway cars and children pushing their parents out of windows. So the play tells them that their impression of the world is correct.

And that there’s absolutely no way out. There’s nothing they can do. And they end up feeling passive and impotent.

Where’s your rose, she rush now babe, I think I’ve lost my touch Why won’t you open up your wings, The more I hope for trust This day I search upon the storm, Woah She told me all my worth is warm Woah, where I lay I’ll wait for you Woah, stuck and stray, I’ll wait for you Oh no, woah I’m blind, girl I may Love, If you hold my hand with grace I miss your golden grin, now love is lost in search for him I wish for cold these flames would smolder, peace runs awfully thin Under my skin, woah I seek to Live, woah Woah, where I lay I’ll wait for you Woah, stuck and stray, I’ll wait for you Oh no, woah I’m blind, girl I may Love, If you hold my hand with grace Love Love Love, Woah Oh, Love Love, Woah Oh, Love (Gus, we need to talk. I’m just not happy anymore. I’m sorry)

you deserve a song so long, it plays beyond the hurt beyond the tears, beyond the courtesy of elementary melodies and chord progressions much like these to love and be loved, who’d have thought it’d be so mysterious? it would be painful without bruises and subject to who chooses to pull the plug and hope that no one sinks you deserve a song so long, it plays beyond the fade beyond the place where all our memories repeat into eternity preserving them so bittersweet, for better or worse what’s the harm in a little disillusion? a little rosy hue and a drink to see it through to separate my logic from my ways and i can and i will, and i can and i will move on and you can and you will, and you can and you will move on you deserve a song so long and crafted with hands of love and capability so i’ll retire, i’ll keep it brief admiring you lovingly so long, so long, so long


I mean – I mean, is Mount Everest more real than New York? I mean, isn’t New York real? 

I mean, you see, I think if you could become fully aware of what existed in the cigar store next door to this restaurant. I think it would just blow your brains out. I mean – I mean, isn’t there just as much reality to be perceived.

In a cigar store as there is on Mount Everest? I mean, what do you think? I think that not only is there nothing more real about Mount Everest. I think there’s nothing that different, in a certain way.  I mean, because reality is uniform, in a way.

But the problem is that people can’t see the cigar store now. I mean, things don’t affect people the way they used to. I mean, it may very well be that 10 years from now. People will pay $10,000 in cash to be castrated just in order to be affected by something.

Well, why – why do you think that is? I mean, why is that? I mean, is it just because people are lazy today, or they’re bored? I mean, are we just like bored, spoiled children. Who’ve just been lying in the bathtub all day just playing with their plastic duck and now they’re just thinking, “Well, what can I do?”.

Okay. Yes. We’re bored. We’re all bored now.

But has it ever occurred to you, that the process, that creates this boredom, that we see in the world now. Unconscious, walking zombie, self-prepetuating goverment based on money. What else… and that all of this is much more dangerous than one thinks.

But that somebody who’s bored is asleep, because he really does feel that we’re living in some kind of Orwellian nightmare now and that everything that you hear now contributes to turning you into a robot.


He said, “I think that New York is the new model for the new concentration camp, where the camp has been built by the inmates themselves, and the inmates are the guards, and they have this pride in this thing they’ve built”.

“They’ve built their own prison, and so they exist in a state of schizophrenia. Where they are both guards and prisoners” and that from now on there’ll simply be all these robots walking around. Feeling nothing, thinking nothing and there’ll be nobody left almost to remind them. That there once was a species called a human being, with feelings and thoughts and that history and memory are right now being erased.

Now, of course, that there’s really almost no hope and that we’re probably going back to a very savage, lawless, terrifying period. But you know, in the Middle Ages before the arrival of scientific thinking as we know it today, well, people could believe anything.

Anything could be true the statue of the Virgin Mary could speak or bleed or whatever it was. But the wonderful thing that happened, was that then in the development of science in the Western world, certain things did come slowly to be known and understood. Obviously, all ideas in science are constantly being revised. But we do at least know that the universe has some shape and order and that, uh, you know, trees do not turn into people or goddesses and there are very good reasons why they don’t and you can’t just believe absolutely anything.


] I think, uh, it’s our nature, uh, to do things. I think we should do things. I think that, uh, purposefulness is part of our ineradicable basic human structure. And to say that we ought to be able to live without it.

is like saying that, uh, a tree ought to be able to live without branches or roots. But – But actually, without branches or roots, it wouldn’t be a tree. I mean, it would just be a log. Do you see what I’m saying?

I mean, in other words, if I’m sitting at home and I have nothing to do, well, I naturally reach for a book. I mean, what would be so great about just sitting there and, uh, doing nothing? It just seems absurd.

And if Debby is there?

Well, that’s just the same thing. I mean, is there really such a thing as, uh… Two people doing nothing but just being together or co-existing one another?  is that I think it’s quite possible to do all sorts of things and at the same time be completely dead inside.

I mean, you know, when you’re young, you go out on dates all the time. You go dancing or something. You’re floating free. And then one day suddenly you find yourself in a relationship and suddenly everything freezes.

And this can be true in your work as well. And I mean, of course, if you’re really alive inside then of course there’s no problem. I mean, if you’re living with somebody in one little room and there’s a life going on between you and the person you’re living with.

Well, then a whole adventure can be going on right in that room. But there’s always the danger then I really do think you have to kind of that things can go dead become a hobo or something, you know… Kerouac and go out on the road.

But I do think that you have to constantly ask yourself the question, with total frankness : “ls your marriage still a marriage?”. I mean, it’s a very frightening thing, to have to suddenly realize.

I thought I was living my life, but in fact I haven’t been a human being. I’ve been a performer. I haven’t been living. I’ve been acting. I’ve – I’ve acted the role of the father. I’ve acted the role of the husband. I’ve acted the role of the friend. I’ve acted the role of the writer, or director, or what have you. I’ve lived in the same room with this person, but I haven’t really seen them. I haven’t really heard them. I haven’t really been with them. Yeah, I know some people are just sometimes… uh, existing just side by side. (Just playing your roles as they do and we are not knowing on what happened actually one another for real parts, mostly.

Not spending the rest of my life with you, I realized that what I wanted most in life was to always be with you.


Was how quickly people seemed to fall into enthusiasm, celebration, joy, wonder, abandon, wildness, tenderness. Could we stand to live like that?

Yeah, I think it’s that moment of contact with another person. I mean, that’s what scares us. I mean, that moment of being face to face with another person.

You wouldn’t think it would be so frightening. It’s strange that we find it so frightening, well, it isn’t that strange. I mean, first of all, there are some pretty good reasons for being frightened. I mean, you know, the human being is a complex and dangerous creature of course there’s a problem, because the closer you come, I think, to another human being the more completely mysterious and unreachable that person becomes. I mean, you know, you have to reach out, you have to go back and forth with them and you have to relate, and yet you’re relating to a ghost or something. I don’t know, because we’re ghosts. We’re phantoms. Who are we?

And that’s to face, to confront the fact that you’re completely alone and to accept that you’re alone is to accept death. You mean, because somehow when you are alone, you’re alone with death. I mean, nothing’s obstructing your view of it, or something like that.

You know, if I understood it correctly, I think, uh, Heidegger said “that, uh, if you were to experience your own being to the full. You’d be experiencing the decay of that being toward death as a part of your experience”.

Then you’ve cut off all your ties to the land, and you’re sailing into the unknown, into uncharted seas. I mean, you know, people hold on to these images of father, mother, husband, wife. Again for the same reason – cause they seem to provide some ‘firm ground’.

But there’s no wife there. What does that mean? a wife, a husband, a son. A baby holds your hands and then suddenly there’s this huge man lifting you off the ground and then he’s gone. Where’s that son?

That your child will spend his entire life gradually moving farther away from you.

At first, he and you are the same. He eats through you. He poops through you. He pokes your belly from inside of you with his feet. His heart beats inside of you.

Then he is born and ripped out of you. He cries. You cry. He is taken away to the table, few feet away. Eventually they bring him back and put him on your chest. A nurse once told me: “Mom’s arms are the best place in the world.” You both agree on that.

Hurray, it turns out you are still really close! You carry him in your arms. He eats off your boobs. He sleeps with you. He must see your face. So, you show it. As often as you can afford.

Next, he learns to walk and starts walking away from you. First, a few tiny steps. Your heart melts when you hear a pitter patter of his little feet coming back towards you. But he gradually expands his range and starts running towards cars and strangers.

Separate eating. Separate sleeping. And school is next. He is now away from you by 10–15 feet at night and 6–7 hours during the day. Eventually, he learns how to hike up the mountains. And dive into the oceans. Far, far away from you.

College is next. He moves out. To another city. Sometimes, country. He is all happy and shit. What are you going to do? Cry? You hold it together. You want him to be independent and strong. He is still yours but just temporarily away. You keep his room as is, for when he comes back.

But he doesn’t. He got a job, set up his own home. He got married and has kids. You now see him once every other week. If you are lucky to live within a driving distance. Otherwise, once every other year… No one talks about that.

P.S. Please forgive me for a depressing answer. I spent all morning crying on the fence of my son’s kindergarten since it was his first day.

I rode home through the city streets, there wasn’t a street, there wasn’t a building, that wasn’t connected to some memory in my mind. There, I was buying a suit with my father. There, I was having an ice cream soda after school.

LIMITED SUNSET

0

I think you’re pretty special.

“And brotherhood, justice, eternal life? Good God man… Show me a religion that prepares one for nothingness, for death. That’s a church I might enter. Yours prepares one only for more life, for dreams and illusions and lies. Banish the fear of death from men’s hearts and they wouldn’t live a day. Who would want this nightmare but for fear of the next. The shadow of the axe hangs over every joy. Every road ends in death, every friendship, every love. Torment, lost, betrayal, pain, suffering, age, indignity, hideous lingering illness… and all of it with a single conclusion. For you and everyone and everything you have ever chosen to care for.”


I heard the other day.

“Is so obsessed with death, I forgot to live.”

Everyday there are things in life to enjoy. My dog, everytime he wakes up, he is happy, no not happy, ecstatic to see me. You can’t help your heart to be filled with joy, no matter how sad, tired, lazy I might be.

The smell of grass being cut, a snow flake on your tongue, leaves rustling in the breeze, seeing my happy dog in the morning.

The joy of learning. Life is so full of wonder and wonderful things. The joy of knowing, Of not knowing.

With technology today, you may be able to “live forever”. We are living longer, the book, “The Singularity is Near” talks about downloading your brain.

Life is an adventure. Leave no stone unturned.


I remember a quote from when I was a little kid.

“It’s not where you go, but who you meet along the way.”

That’s from the Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

Sure, shitty things happen in life, but we’ve only got one life so we might as well make the most of it.

Hell, you can even enjoy life if you go thinking you made the world of better place. You can enjoy life by making it better for other people.

Sure, we lose friends, people die, we break up with people we thought were our soulmates, but so what? We make new friends, we lose our grandparents but we get to build a future for our children, we break up with someone only to meet someone better.

Life ends, yes. We all have to accept it, but just have fun.

Don’t worry about what went wrong, but remember what went right, cherish the good memories and throw away the painful ones, build new friendships and experience new, exciting things rather than mulling over what went wrong in the past.

And when you’re near death, accept it. Know that you’re soon going to go, and that you did your best. You had fun, you built relationships, and people cared about you.


“I don’t believe in God. Can you understand that? Look around you man. Cant you see? The clamor and din of those in torment has to be the sound most pleasing to his ear. And I loathe these discussions. The argument of the village atheist whose single passion is to revile endlessly that which he denies the existence of in the first place. Your fellowship is a fellowship of pain and nothing more.

And if that pain were actually collective instead of simply reiterative then the sheer weight of it would drag the world from the walls of the universe and send it crashing and burning through whatever night it might yet be capable of engendering until it was not even ash. And justice? Brotherhood? Eternal life? Good god, man. Show me a religion that prepares one for death. For nothingness. There’s a church I might enter. Yours prepares one only for more life. For dreams and illusions and lies. If you could banish the fear of death from men’s hearts they wouldnt live a day. Who would want this nightmare if not for fear of the next? The shadow of the axe hangs over every joy. Every road ends in death. Or worse. Every friendship. Every love. Torment, betrayal, loss, suffering, pain, age, indignity, and hideous lingering illness. All with a single conclusion. For you and for every one and everything that you have chosen to care for. There’s the true brotherhood. The true fellowship. And everyone is a member for life. You tell me that my brother is my salvation? My salvation? Well then damn him. Damn him in every shape and form and guise. Do I see myself in him? Yes. I do. And what I see sickens me. Do you understand me? Can you understand me?”

Cormac McCarthy, The Sunset Limited


“You give up the world line by line. Stoically. And then one day you realize that your courage is farcical. It doesn’t mean anything. You’ve become an accomplice in your own annihilation and there is nothing you can do about it. Everything you do closes a door somewhere ahead of you. And finally there is only one door left.”
Cormac McCarthy, The Sunset Limited


“Every road ends in death. Or worse. Every friendship. Every love. Torment, betrayal, loss, suffering, pain, age, indignity, and hideous lingering illness. All with a single conclusion. For you and for every one and every thing that you have chosen to care for. There’s the true brotherhood. The true fellowship. And everyone is a member for life. You tell me that my brother is my salvation? My salvation? Well then damn him. Damn him in every shape and form and guise. Do I see myself in him? Yes. I do. And what I see sickens me. Do you understand me? Can you understand me?”

Cormac McCarthy, The Sunset Limited


“Rage is really only for the good days. The truth is there’s little of that left. the truth is that the forms I see have been slowly emptied out. They no longer have any content. They are shapes only. A train, a wall, a world. Or a man. A thing dangling in senseless articulation in a howling void. No meaning to its life. Its words. Why would I seek the company of such a thing? Why?”
Cormac McCarthy, The Sunset Limited



“Maybe you could just keep that in reserve. Maybe just take a shot at startin over. I dont mean start again. Everybody’s done that. Over means over. It means you walk away. I mean, if everthing you are and everthing you have and everthing you have done has brought you at last to the bottom of a whiskey bottle or bought you a one way ticket on the Sunset Limited then you cant give me the first reason on God’s earth for salvagin none of it. Cause they aint no reason. And I’m goin to tell you that if you can bring yourself to shut the door on all of that it will be cold and it will be lonely and they’ll be a mean wind blowin. And them is all good signs. You dont say nothin. You just turn up your collar and keep walkin.”
Cormac McCarthy, The Sunset Limited


“I ain’t got an original thought in my head. If it ain’t got the scent of divinity to it, I ain’t interested in it”
Cormac McCarthy, The Sunset Limited


“Evolution cannot avoid bringing intelligent life ultimately to an awareness of one thing above all else and that one thing is futility.”
Cormac McCarthy, The Sunset Limited


“Sometimes faith might just be a case of not havin nothin else left.”
Cormac McCarthy, The Sunset Limited


“Black: So how come they cant be your brothers in despair and selfdestruction? I thought misery loved company?


“White: We were born in such a fix as this. Suffering and human destiny are the same thing. Each is a description of the other.
Black: We aint talkin about sufferin. We talkin about bein happy.
White: Well you cant be happy if you’re in pain.
Black: Why not?”
Cormac McCarthy, The Sunset Limited


BLACK: Runnin blindfold through the woods with the bit tween your teeth. Oh man. Didnt I try it though. If you can find a soul that give it a better shot than me I’d like to meet him. I surely would. And what do you reckon it got me?

WHITE: I dont know. What did it get you?

BLACK: Death in life. That’s what it got me. (14)

What is death in life? It’s like being shut off from the basic current of existence while still being a part of existence. You’re walking around, but you’re not really a part of the purpose of what you’re walking in—you’re living in your own death-like little corner of reality, wrapped up in yourself.’



BLACK: Oh yeah. [The toilet’s] a favorite place for drunks to hide a bottle. But the point of course is that the drunk’s concern aint that he’s goin to die from drinkin—which he is. It’s that he’s going to run out of whiskey fore he gets a chance to do it. (58)

Black explains how crazy the psychology of suffering is: You crave the thing that will kill you, and avoid the thing that could save you and remove your suffering. You’re addicted to your suffering, in fact—it’s the hardest thing for you to put down.


Black: I ain’t a doubter, but I am a questioner.

White: What’s the difference?

Black: A questioner wants the truth. A doubter wants to be told there ain’t no such thing.


His single passion is to revile endlessly that which he denies the existence of in the first place.


The light is all around you but you don’t see nothing but shadow. And you’re the one causing it. It’s you. You’re the shadow! That’s the point.


Black: The sun don’t shine up the same dog’s ass every day, you understand what I’m saying?

White: If what you’re saying is that I’m simply having a bad day, that’s ridiculous.

Black: I ain’t saying you’re having a bad day, Professor, I’m saying you’re having a bad life.


I yearn for the darkness. I pray for death. Real death. If I thought that in death I would meet the people I’ve known in life I don’t know what I’d do. That would be the ultimate horror. The ultimate despair. If I had to meet my mother again and start all of that all over, only this time without the prospect of death to look forward to? Well, that would be the final nightmare.


Maybe faith is just a case of having nothing else left.

White: My heart warms just thinking about it, blackness, aloneness, silence, peace, and all of it only a heartbeat away.


Everything you do closes a door somewhere ahead of you. And finally there is only one door left.


I think you’re pretty special. I don’t think I’m special.

You don’t think you view those other commuters, from a certain height?

I view those other commuters as fellow occupants, of the same abyssal pit in which I find myself. And if they see it as something different.

I don’t know how that makes me special. I can’t help but think there’s got to be something, a little special about theirselves.

I mean, they got to be in a deeper pit, than us day travelers… deeper and darker. I ain’t saying they down as deep as you. In self-destruction and despair.

I thought misery loved company.