strike the hammer, pull the bow
lately i've been listening to patrick wolf, the vessels, the bluetones, rachmaninov and the ben folds five song 'philosophy'.
my tutor just told me 'now, laura, you are not a philosopher. you are a writer.'
last night i spent two hours reading and writing about how
a thirst for knowledge is a thirst for sex
(it is unclear to me why i have been putting off working on my dissertation when really it's just part of me; a part that would exist with or without greg walker.)
the first thing adam and eve do after eating fruit from the tree of knowledge is have sex. the tree of knowledge. not the tree of desire, the tree of lust, the tree of sex.
the tree of knowledge.
to be knowledgeable is really just to appreciate yourself as a physical entity. hightened senses and sparked curiosity. i always knew that sex and thought were connected, but i never realised that it said so in the bible. i don't even believe in the bible, it's just another text, you know?
new awareness and knowledge brings not the power to give in, but the power to realise that it's not giving in at all. it is embracing. it is bracing. it is
'not death, but life augmented'.
another thing that milton said is
'opened eyes, new joys,
tastes so divine that what of sweet before
hath touched my sense, flat seems to this, and harsh'
new eyes with new knowledge with new sense with new knowledge with new experience.
how we can bear to be anything but optimistic is beyond me. and so naturally new hope ends that list, whatever has happened.
at the end of his dark materials the ghosts sacrifice concious thought to regain their senses and become part of the physical world. sensation sensation sensation.
which is why i'm going to walk along new walk shortly, with patsi and wet leaves and bright cold sunshine; and cold drinks and hot food and pretty wrought iron railings.
today i feel that this work is all managable, i can imagine myself achieving it. i sent a poem off to be printed. i wrote an angry note for the kitchen wall. i agreed to spend money on new shoes and i got work for christmas at mvc.
there is only grace in this moment, this time, and i perpetually find myself in states of unalterable bliss. i do not see how i will ever be happier than i am at this time; this time of beautiful balance and precision.
because the years will pass and i will not spend my wednesday mornings like this.
my tutor just told me 'now, laura, you are not a philosopher. you are a writer.'
last night i spent two hours reading and writing about how
a thirst for knowledge is a thirst for sex
(it is unclear to me why i have been putting off working on my dissertation when really it's just part of me; a part that would exist with or without greg walker.)
the first thing adam and eve do after eating fruit from the tree of knowledge is have sex. the tree of knowledge. not the tree of desire, the tree of lust, the tree of sex.
the tree of knowledge.
to be knowledgeable is really just to appreciate yourself as a physical entity. hightened senses and sparked curiosity. i always knew that sex and thought were connected, but i never realised that it said so in the bible. i don't even believe in the bible, it's just another text, you know?
new awareness and knowledge brings not the power to give in, but the power to realise that it's not giving in at all. it is embracing. it is bracing. it is
'not death, but life augmented'.
another thing that milton said is
'opened eyes, new joys,
tastes so divine that what of sweet before
hath touched my sense, flat seems to this, and harsh'
new eyes with new knowledge with new sense with new knowledge with new experience.
how we can bear to be anything but optimistic is beyond me. and so naturally new hope ends that list, whatever has happened.
at the end of his dark materials the ghosts sacrifice concious thought to regain their senses and become part of the physical world. sensation sensation sensation.
which is why i'm going to walk along new walk shortly, with patsi and wet leaves and bright cold sunshine; and cold drinks and hot food and pretty wrought iron railings.
today i feel that this work is all managable, i can imagine myself achieving it. i sent a poem off to be printed. i wrote an angry note for the kitchen wall. i agreed to spend money on new shoes and i got work for christmas at mvc.
there is only grace in this moment, this time, and i perpetually find myself in states of unalterable bliss. i do not see how i will ever be happier than i am at this time; this time of beautiful balance and precision.
because the years will pass and i will not spend my wednesday mornings like this.