Of the Mind

Of the mind.

There lies two worlds, a duality.

The first finds its being beyond the boundaries of the personal. It speaks with your voice, about others and their affairs and longs for excursions into the foray of society. It acts without reservation and acts without breath. Its being is not conscious but extends onto other, it is for them and only for them. Its nature exudes onto them and absorption gives it affirmation, its reason for existence.

The second seeks solace in solitude. Its eyes peer into its core, it listens as it speaks and speaks and it listens. It knows and it shows, in the theatres of the mind it shows. It sees as it shows and shows as it sees. It is the looking glass to which it peers onto its own. It is the contentious vessel of consciousness that never pours beyond the boundaries of the spoken. It is silent and it must be silent.

The first is for others while the second is for itself.

The self, is a compromise of these two worlds.

He is of others and of himself. He finds himself in both worlds but of which does he often dwell? Is he for others or for himself?

Of the mind this duality is truth.

S.Dasuki

Psychic

Loosing life to the beast of Forget.

Long had I wondered if I, this mind of careful dictation and artful expression can ever be lost to Forget. Never could I imagine such circumstances that could bring about my demise, till one day, I was found displaced and quiet.

“Oh thou and thy breast oft pouting much expense. I delight, thy feed by such malice art truly of apathy.”.

Forget consumes without remorse, without mercy or even thought.

For each second in time, a due portion of mind it consumes. For each new colour, new sound, new experience, another is be lost to the art of Forget.

As these travesties of mind progress, no alarm is raised. For no presence it presents.

All its malice and destruction in the scenes of mind proceed in covertness so silent. So silent!

For such silence  is its being. Forget-ness is silence, is empty. Its absence is its presence, its being.

As it consumes, the loss it exudes is so vast. The void if let untended gain permanence with time. The emptiness would stretches deeper and further into mind till the only vestige of what once was is only its absence. A bold presence of loss in one’s recollection.

Forget consumes without bound for its appetite  is expansive. It consumes and it will hunger, it will dig deeper and spread further. An entire psyche could be lost if it fancied, an entire perspective of self as it did mine.

As I inflate this self once more, my mind finds itself punctuated by nodes of lost and void. Like a tattered flag swimming in the salty breeze.

For each silent hole, for each for void, for each lost moment, that has been forgotten, I will fill anew.

For this is my psychic revival. I am Al Nietzsche and I must never be forgotten!

Archaic Imagos

Run!!

My foot falls…. My foot falls… Stepping…. Steps upon Steps

Then,

My knees, tore off its joints, a consequence of force applied upon unlatched hinges. My flesh came asunder with audible effect. My arms by the action of instinct came forth and i, laden with motion, continued forth.

The hollowed ends of my broken limb, exude rivers of red. Shreds of my flesh hung like  fabric, dripping. My chest now pressed against marble floor, ached with each breath as bare skin press between ribs and marble. The motions and whispers of my breath was all there is to accompany this moment. And from its stillness, amidst shudders and trembles, the absence of weight came to awareness.

But.

I need to run farther. I need to run faster.

As a consolation, I withdrew from consciousness.

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Is there choice in consciousness?

I must not live with futility

My Prayer

At the beginning of each day, I lay still in my bed, motionless and consumed by ‘thinking’. I scan the boundless skies of my mind searching for something to give reason to pursuit my life, or at least an excuse not to stay in bed.

I have been doing this for while now, ever since I realised that living needs purpose, to simply exist would be a waste of resources. To see the light of our ever giving sun over and over again at the beginning of each day only to achieve nothing at the end would be unfortunate. When the sun return to the distant plains beyond the horizon and when I examine my hands and ask, “What have I created today?”, I would have an answer. Thus, at the beginning of my day, in an effort to fend off futility, I ask my self, “What will I create today?”

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My Sermon

We as creatures of ‘will’ have a responsibility to expend our existence with purpose, we are not bound by the chains of determinism. We are free to be as we want to and act as we wish. But so too can we relinquish this freedom and succumb to the ‘curse’ of monotony, an unthinking state of existence where our lives are wasted by forces not of our own. To ask for rights is a matter of society, but we as individual can never loose this freedom, we merely forget it. It is easy to live without choosing and without thinking, to assimilate into a foreign consciousness and abide by its will but no price is too large to pay for the privilege of owning ones’ self.

Al-nietzsche