The Paragraph, as the mind.

The paragraph, as the mind.


Is this paragraph, the one that is not yet fully written, but rather being written here on this first and very important line, I mean second line, the gateway into my mind? Into a deep, unconscious, unknown world? Can things unconscious ever reveal themselves on the page, or are their mysteries doomed, under lock and key in the cavernous dungeon of the mind? What is a mind? A mind is a brain; but is a brain a mind? A brain is a compilation of tissue, of organic matter just like a tongue or a lung or a heart. There is something about a brain, a quality of exceptionality that makes it a mind, that makes it more important, more significant and more interesting than a lung or a heart or a tongue. Electrical pulses occur, thoughts, ideas, ponderings, broodings, contemplations, inklings, dreams, aspirations, ingenuity, hate, rape, murder, torture, love, destiny, kindness, virtue. Everything seen or known is only seen and known in the pink fleshy organic tissue that is mind that is brain that is the mush between our ears. What is an ear if not taught to hear, an awkward flap of skin and cartilage with no use on its own but only with the guidance of brain-mind, mind-brain? You see the girl you love, you say with all my heart, rather we all know full well that one cannot love with a heart. The heart is the machine; the heart sends crucial oxygen to the organs that cannot survive without it. Among these oxygen fiends includes the brain-mind, mind-brain. If the brain is who you are, everything that is inherently you, then the heart is everything you need. Without a functioning heart, the brain, the you, the all of us, will suffocate, every thought, idea, love, hate will cease to exist forever. Maybe we say we love with our hearts because love is not real; it makes no sense to the mind-brain, it is not a problem that needs solving, not a limb needing direction. Maybe love is an entity that exists outside the mind, outside the brain, outside respiratory and circulatory systems, above and beyond the electric pulse of life; maybe love is the heart, not in fact or science but in thought (of mind). Maybe love is simultaneously oxygen we breath and the carbon dioxide that we exhale. Maybe we need love as much as any element of life, yet again, maybe not. We will never know why our minds work the way they do, why we have been gifted/cursed with knowledge, reason, and the consciousness of impending death. Maybe, just maybe, we know the things we know because he/she(who?) has given us the gift to love and the curse of losing it. Our flesh is animal, but, our minds have evolved, as has the paragraph, without indentation, formless, and senseless.

From the Count of Monte Cristo

"The wicked are great drinkers of water. As the flood proved once for all."

The Flowery Road of Mount Daisy Sion

You must travel to the flowery road of Mount Daisy Sion.


First, Ascend to the most western edge
of the most northern peak.

Celebrate the wind, dance
to her beat.

Stomp your feet and kick
up the ashe of yesterday.

Next, Run down the eastern hillside. Gently

slide over the obdurate edge of earth.

Feel yourself seep down your thighs.

Lick god's sweat off your lips and

ride the wave of bright til you

feel the heat of day, fade

with the distant

sunlight.


Dusk has past,
and now the stars and moons lead.

A cosmic catastrophe,
one million years before,
brightens your night, just
enough to see the dust
breathing beneath you.

Now, remove your shoes
one by one.
Go down this path you hath begun.
Now you walk til the days do end.
Sun goes up, sun comes down
every day, this you know.
You must walk this path you lead,
til the day

the sun, doth not show.

Damn Good Day

It's A Damn

Good Day

To

Be Alive

And In

Love.

Quote

"If we disbelieve everything because we cannot certainly know all things; we shall do much what wisely as he, who would not use his legs, but sit still and perish, because he had no wings to fly." - John Locke An Essay Concerning Human Understanding

Nothing

Nothing to Lose, But

Time:

{God's Lobby,
A Universal Slice
A Carton of Milky Way
A Buckled Asteroid Belt
A Piece of the Pi
An Uneasy Equilibrium
A Dimension of Dementia
Our Galaxy Garbled
A Google Fun-Plex of
A Macro-Million Moments}



nothing to fear, but

fear:

{man's modesty
and bravery's companion
screams that curdle
tears that shake and roll
heart slams the cage
struggles to break free
butterflies now bats
blindly stretch and flap
only suspects: pain and death}

Words from the King.

Eternal love shines in my eyes.
Don't build your hopes to be let down, 'cause I really feel it's time.
A willow deeply scarred, somebody's broken heart,
and a washed out dream.

You feel the cold hand, and wonder if you'll ever see the sun.
Then every head turned with eyes that dreamed of being the one.
You never said goodbye, someone tell me why did you have to go,
and leave my world so cold.

And when the groove is dead and gone,
yeah, you know that love survives.
Now I believe in miracles,
and a miracle has happened tonight.

(RIP Michael)