Infinite Requisitio – Quotes for Quenching; revival

Don’t run, don’t let it go too far, the way you feel ain’t always the way it goes off.
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I know your vernacular, I can do it like anyone, but I got moves that I done patient on the moving parts – if I want I call the hunt, but we prepared and let it on… On your left-psych, don’t worry watching your back, so far off I just got to laugh you only done it to yourself.
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I think of all the nights, a life of ease, where my insides didn’t matter because my paradise arrived. I now see how this loss of Eden was the impetus for the man to come, struggle birthed me, I am the son. Though now I admit for so long I’ve been aimless. There is no target to hit or mark to miss. Pulling the trigger with my eyes closed inside a walk-in freezer. That’s how dangerous it is. And I’m hard on myself. My expectations long ago built rockets and landed on the moon only to then decide it was not enough and I must go as far as the the furthest blip of light, dying at least the square root of -2 times-i, an infinite jest… It goes forever sort of, so do I. And at such the steep cost of everything I’ll ever have, I need a real inspiration, I need something so tantalizing, so ideal, that it kills the mediocre.
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I’m just bad for you, ain’t that truth playing with God’s mind hot and twisted, look inside we all got fire but some like it hotter.
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I thought of saying something. I knew. I really do have the sense, but I chose not to because it’s going to go the way it always will, my power is not to change any of it. I can’t stay another’s hand, only my own. So I’m still here. I do the most. Anything less from me ain’t even a joke.
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I have gone my entire life creating the vibration that will birth the meaning I always knew was in the stone, like Arthurian legend I pull my word from within and wield them like the sword they’ve always had the strength to form, and cut deep for those who choose the depths.

Some People Really Do What They Love

“Life comes down to this — you can do anything, there are no limits to what you can achieve, but you do have to decide what you want to do, and then get to doing it.” – One of the secrets of life

Why are we always waiting? It is the man, the woman; who does not wait – patient – but refuses to wait, who becomes successor to the gods

I sat for a long time with this. I let the music play until I did not recognize where I had been or where I was. I am sure where I started was seeking to find that fable of all fables, but that forever eternal is a frozen moment, not much longer than the instant it takes for a molecule of water to slow down to a freeze and move back into a flow with the temperature fluctuating the way it does. It’s a complex measure, in truth, we have no measure yet to define and capture all that is encompassed; apart from perhaps that indelible mark, the arrow that always strikes true on the person who is fully human. Love; Stronger than man-rejoicing wine? More inextricably linked as they share a similar visceral – guts on the table – joy, and dichotomy of honesty & deceit ever tearing. Yes, I sat for a long time and I would offer up the notion that love can stand to measure every nuance from end to end.

Some people really do what they love,
and others are driven beyond love
because it’s not enough. To them and I both,
I offer my felicitations – a belly full of wine
when and if the time ever comes.

What are you waiting for?

 

Things Are Different In The Morning

When you wake up, it isn’t what it was the night or day before.
Leave me, leave me, leave me – We’ve been nothing but trouble.
Counter views, and frame colliding perspectives, now empathy.

“I feel a sudden clear focus and perspective. There is no time for anything inessential. I must focus on myself, my work and my friends.” – Oliver Sacks

Wisdom of Grace

“I guess dirt is a good foundation for Green”
– Grace, On what comes before

Do not underestimate the power
of letting a fellow traveler
examine closely your thoughts;
the exchange of words in the old fashion.
Speak beautifully, construct the response,
and fear not being misunderstood.
The travel of two is always a blessing
to the journey — Like a fixed star,
these moments gift to your voice
some sort of guide along the road — Something to bounce ideas off of even if they don’t come back right away.  Internally, perspective stirs the concepts, it stokes the flame; feeding it when you thought you might be on your last log

Share the tastes, and pangs of life.
Even if it is dirt, you can both agree on that.
And what’s more, when it isn’t dirt…
you’ve both got something of a shared celebration!

 

Quotes for Quenching – 32

“Empathy matters not just because it makes you good, but because it is good for you. It has the power to heal broken relationships, erode our prejudices, expand our curiosity about strangers and make us rethink our ambitions. Ultimately empathy creates the human bonds that make life worth living.” — Roman Krznaric

But what about that lesson to take it all home with you? Yes you are going somewhere, and really with yourself is the first and last company. You have considered taking home something rather flush, really exquisite. Only is has been left at the door, nothing further considered. You always talk a strong game, and when the night comes to the marker – well you turn head. You leave the key in the lock, but you don’t dial in.

This matter is beyond importance. It is more than a concept to reach others by way of the soul. It is the only way you will share happiness, for this life, with yourself. Do you not find self eager to wake each new second with the kiss of joy? Then no more. We begin now.

Carry your hand here. Turn the wheel, and begin to accept it. How can you treat any part with contempt, when you treat so admirably the whole as perfection? You bond to the word of another, the voice of a sweet song, the embrace of another, a touch of serendipity. You have found something in every word, so now welcome it home. Ease the hand; and the eye with which you view the sacred.

I didn’t really expect to do empathy any justice,
indeed not with so few considered words,
but that doesn’t mean I can’t offer my hands.

I The Unseen Chills

I feel it, and wonder has it yet perforated my entire soul.
A best is that, yours or mine, best.
I wish I could have been better

Sometimes you just want selfishness
to take the last bit of air from you
and while you turn blue,
it apologizes that this time it won’t share.

The Hottest Night The Jungle Ever Had

“What is it which makes a man and a woman know that they, of all other men and women in the world, belong to each other? Is it no more than chance and meeting? No more than being alive together in the world at the same time? Is it only a curve of the throat, a line of the chin, the way the eyes are set, a way of speaking? Or is it something deeper and stranger, something beyond meeting, something beyond chance and fortune? Are there others, in other times of the world, whom we should have loved, who would have loved us? Is there, perhaps, one soul among all others — among all who have lived, the endless generations, from world’s end to world’s end — who must love us or die? And whom we must love, in turn — whom we must seek all our lives long — headlong and homesick — until the end?
— Robert Nathan (Portrait of Jennie)

What fool will first make a proposal? Is it you? Do you have the pomp? Will you claim your gavel to be judge; or do you think such things should be left to the faculties of twelve? Too many mouths when we need all the senses. I’m talking more than bodies! The dialectic won’t be swallowed by bites. Haven’t we learned this ? Where are the other parts! We need the tetractys – The whole is greater than the sum of its bits and pieces you keep fooling with.

We were talking love though weren’t we? Oh you can talk love all you want, but it isn’t there until you act beyond the things you expect to receive. And how do you know when you will? With any certainty? I’m not sure we can ever answer that. Perhaps it comes down to forgiving all the shards in your hands because it wasn’t after all their intent to slip into your skin. They simply existed; and you merely put pressure – And where the two met, they got to know each other.

I don’t want to get clinical nor do I want to be cynical. The world is rife with beautiful things coming and going. But you’ve got to keep the basics together. You’ve got to work with a body of matter, and then pull in other bits. If you plan to go from one end to the other, you must have something to go on. But here you are! You are sure, already, about what you have to go on! That’s why you’re barely visible from the steps. You couldn’t wait to get out there. To get out there and prove whatever started this fire, exists.

 

 

The Gift

I won’t let my genius be my misery, and death

When you start to question whether it ever existed, you begin to erase yourself. While none of us or any of it is permanent, that doesn’t mean the record is blank, that every step outside is like water thrown into the ocean.

Imagine what you could do with such a brilliance! Imagine what it could do to you if you were to use it for self destruction. Wouldn’t it really sink you low? Its’ hold on the bottom would be quite the weight. I am certain no nightmare more hellish could be enacted! If you think you’re going through anything in this moment, I plead you to turn around and go back towards the surface. Whatever you’re feeling now, is nothing like what you could puzzle together if you keep picking up omens.

It’s quiet & slow. This isn’t the way I really enjoy it. It isn’t the mood I was hoping for. Something sort of lingers in my vessel; It isn’t any thing harsh or vile, but I still feel the drag of an anchor. Perhaps a bit of malaise, as I adjust to the reduced grandeur of the days. Is it poor? No, plenty of wealth is still had, but it just doesn’t have much hip in the hop – Or jump to the step? Laying down at night is pretty barren. The bed sleeps great, but the passenger is not looking for shut eye. And really it should be fine, but it just isn’t the same.

A little time has to pass. This wasn’t who you were. Now I don’t know where you went and left yourself, but I’ll be waiting somewhere for you. If you don’t make it, don’t worry; Not everyone does. It wouldn’t be the worst thing.

Oh damn the wheel of the world, why must it continually lay over! Lay it down. Your tired body. Lay it down. All the things you have been trying to hold together must go  ways. And there is only one way for this.

Your gift is something I’ve seen. It was fire to the first men. Metal to the ages. It was the seed to the dirt, and land on the horizon; Rubido to the alchemists; And light in the depths of the cave – I touched it heavy. I dragged my entire vessel through the fountain. My attempts to take what I had uncovered saw only drought, for what was discovered could only be known where it had been found. To stay meant death, and to leave was goodbye.

Quotes for Quenching – 30

“Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.” — C.S. Lewis

 

I know the type of individual of which Lewis wrote. He turns down every invitation, he leaves only his absence once he is gone. He invests nothing in those around him because they are nothing to his soul. He shuts the world out and holds only himself in his hands. The things he does are entirely for him. People may try to come around, but he quickly shuts them down, because the most important thing is time, of which he has none for anything but his lines; Yes his drugs of choice, and the occasional self serving urge.

He smiles as he looks his prey in the eyes, not because he’s happy, but because what he wants is easy to take! Yes, it’s willingly given, but only because he lies with good taste. What should I drown the world out with tonight, he wonders, perhaps a telling of how great he is. That always feels so good. Or maybe he’ll go find someone to tell him, so he can coldly not reciprocate, once again leaving knowing nothing could be lost.

I know this man because at one point in the story I was him. I never gave a shit about anyone. I did it all for my own gain and pleasure. I wanted the world not so I could share it, but so I could give it out as my gift to those below me, or not at all. I had to have what I wanted, but what was I expecting to pay for it? No, I was owed it!
At one point I could without falter, claim that I knew no love for a single being in existence. I had to lie a lot along the way, fake it till I made it. I’d say I got pretty good at mimicking what I had observed. The words came easy. They were all so easy. And it was all to make myself feel good. I made it about me. It was about me. What selfishness I now detest! The ground could not bare to hold me. So vile was my path; Yet it was one I had to walk to know anything of what I was. As I went along I learned to dance, to feel, to bleed in different ways. I came to know it all through those who touched me. Every point along the road gave me something more to hold. I knew something had changed when I finally gave in to the animals. I no longer found them without purpose, I no longer found them worthless. It was bizarre to see what I had been, after living lies for my entire life. It was confounding to say the least. Especially at the epicenter of the mainshock, and closer to it. Imagine you woke up one morning to discover you’d been acting a role! That none of what you felt had actually been anything but a means to an end; That you had been cold and corrupt all along aiming only to serve yourself with little more than a candle to the wind held for others. Do you at that moment drop the act? Do you stand before the audience with your hands motionless at your sides and stare blankly? Some may, but I didn’t. I was determined to be authentic. I was determined to find true emotions. I went on, and on, practicing daily. Many times did I observe my coldness which sent a chill down my spine. An electrical charge was firing, and it knew of what it was seeking. I knew by this that I was making progress. Of course when you act for so long you can turn like wheels on the bus; You forget the act exists and blend into the scene. I’m not sure if this was color rubbing off on me or if it was all blurring together as I became numb to the motions. I spent a long cold winter alone after the last collision. I never had more time to twist and shake, shiver and cringe. I came out of those nights knowing a lot about what it meant to be cold. When you’re alone there is no act. It’s just you. And when you spend enough time alone without the act, you really settle into who you are. I found summer again and was determined to thaw myself for the final time. I never wanted to be frozen through to the marrow again. Of course as I began to warm, the stage got wet. I didn’t know much about standing in water, the pressure, the warm air hitting my cold frame; I did my best to weather the ensuing storms. As soon as I could shake free of the last few icicles I had to run. I ran away because it was all too much for me at once. It took time to get used to the thaw. It took time to comprehend the flow of the rivers when no ice was clogging their veins. And then I found myself so natural and free. Eager! It was no act. I was simply me; No stage, just rivers, beautiful rivers you can drown in.

I’ll have whatever I please because emptiness takes a lot to feed.

If it’s cold enough, walking on the ice is safer than you’d think

Wisdom of Q – 1

“I don’t know much about wine to be honest, but what I do know is that women love Moscato.” – Q, from When it Comes to Breaking

Here let me pour you a glass – Heavens your day looks drawn; And I mean out, not sketched. Should we take a few minutes to let this breathe? Do not rush so headlong; Darling this is quality. – And like any masterwork of art, it takes time for the senses to know what they are dancing with. And dancing on the palette is a complexity a mile wide.
What style do you prefer? Let me put a semicolon between you bent over; And me at the backdoor to meet you.

It’s raw; I’m raw the way I intend to touch you. No filter is how I want the dirty water material world.

You don’t really know how to taste correctly do you? There’s more than just putting it in your mouth. Levels exist to all this, and you’ve got to take the time to get acquainted on each one. Take it in. On the nose, the nose first, and not just how you breathe all day; That’s not depth, not deep at all. Take it in to your inner sanctuary, and let it cake on the walls. Now press it out! Dash and swirl it – Air serves it like a symphonic chamber; The guard is down and the ceilings are open! Now press your nose deep. There is much to find towards the bottom. Is it heavy ? Let it go. Return to the horizon, but keep your distance for this one, yes, hear the whispers from down in the volcanic crater. Are you ready for a splash? Just the tip first, a bit of a bite, an intense concentration of jolts to the buds. This is where you find what your tongue desires, at the gate. Forward we will pass this keeper, and deliver nectar to the body! You deserve a limber afternoon. We could take more insanity, but I’d rather discover all that out in the wild. The howl is our cue, throw your head back and let’s dance like it were a full moon! Feel the life bursting with vigor in this juice – It’s everything a tongue could need, and more.

Be careful, a good dance might find you on the floor

A good dance will have you squirming for a drop more