Edge Lord

Much of my pain and disappointment has stemmed from my expectation. I expected to receive much from the world on the account of who I am—whatever that may be. I saw people with wealth, and I thought I deserved that same wealth; when I saw that the path to wealth crossed decades and generations, I came to resent wealth and the wealthy for many of the wealthy did not need to cross the violent and vast river of trial-and-time.  I grew resentful, fearful, and hesitant as time passed—feeling as if I was trapped in a devious mechanism whose purpose was to drain my life and soul to sustain the livelihoods of those that stood on the shoulders of generations. I saw that I was a man living in the shadows of vampiric titans and kniving gods. I attempted to brush away this image as being the result of bruised and temporarily wounded ego, but my heart told me that this was the truth: the world is a tragic place for a tiny man who dares to look up with open eyes.  Regardless, I sense the ne...

A real possibility: I fucked myself up by reading Nietzsche. Alternatively equal possibility: I was fucked up, so I read Nietzsche. But Certainly: Well-adjusted adults in their mid-twenties are not fascinated with Nietzsche. I am no longer fascinated  by Nietzsche. I don't think about him regularly, even though I have a portrait of the guy hanging over my desk. He's interesting. He's still relevant albeit overdone. And I worry that he left a mark, for better or worse—or for good or evil or whatever lies beyond (WINK WINK). Thinking about power is...destructive, corrupting. Power flows in ways that are not our ways. And mimicking the  flows of powers  that you may observe won't win you any good prizes, because they cannot be copied from observation. Look, I do not know if that makes sense outside of my head, but I have to put it out there: if you try to merely mimic the flows, you will fail, and you will pay for your failure . Power is more like a dance...

There was I, in a luke-warm black sea. Above me was a sky or cavern-ceiling. Dim constellations of dubious form. I kept swimming. When I could not swim, I floated. I closed my eyes; Accepted despair. I awoke to a rhythmic beating of wings, carrying me up. ... The alchemist says, "The spirit must be rescued from the waters. "It cannot be sieved or filtered. It must rise of its own volition." ... The water floats, as a sphere, touching not the glass of the retort. The soul circumambulates until it gives up its spirit. The spirit is lifted to escape the retort, guided by the principle of the air, the angel, the wind of paradise. ... The angel is four wings, brown and white. ... The black water is found in the deep, gathered in abyssal wells, carried up, in dark earthen vessels. Placed in the alembic, the black water gathers, like an orb, reluctant to touch the ignoble, the lowly the earthly, the common, the things on the sur...

If you don't believe anything I write here, you're going to have a bad time. If you believe everything I write here, you're going to have a worse time than I did. ... Live the life of a thousand aphorisms. ... You can't own what you worship. (It owns you.) ... Strife is the law of life. You don't need to spend long seeking it out. Strife will find you. ... Listen, it is not necessary to pursue pleasure nor greatness nor wealth. It is sufficient to live a life dedicated to mindfully avoiding suffering. ... The Logos  is the word (stories, narratives, values in the form of the written and spoken word) that carved their way through time and death and war and famine and plague and generation. Seek it. Learn from it. Its other name is History.  ... God, they say, is omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent—all-knowing, all-present, all-powerful. Man, is omnivore— all-consuming. ... At the center of being is void. When the self tries t...