Quick Thought

In reading a conversation between (Johnathan) Franzen and (Alice) Sebold mentioned in the New York Times, she mentioned "getting down in the pit and loving someone," to which Franzen describes as " We like the mirror and the mirror likes us. To friend a person is merely to include the person in our private hall of flattering mirrors.............She has in mind the dirt that love inevitably splatters on the mirror of our self-regard." I used to pray for clean slates, the falsified amygdala inside the limbic system that is my mystery.

Going back to America's greatest living novelist:

"The simple fact of the matter is that trying to be perfectly likable is incompatible with loving relationships. Sooner or later, for example, you’re going to find yourself in a hideous, screaming fight, and you’ll hear coming out of your mouth things that you yourself don’t like at all, things that shatter your self-image as a fair, kind, cool, attractive, in-control, funny, likable person. Something realer than likability has come out in you, and suddenly you’re having an actual life.

There is no such thing as a person whose real self you like every particle of. This is why a world of liking is ultimately a lie. But there is such a thing as a person whose real self you love every particle of. And this is why love is such an existential threat to the techno-consumerist order: it exposes the lie.

This is not to say that love is only about fighting. Love is about bottomless empathy, born out of the heart’s revelation that another person is every bit as real as you are. And this is why love, as I understand it, is always specific. Trying to love all of humanity may be a worthy endeavor, but, in a funny way, it keeps the focus on the self, on the self’s own moral or spiritual well-being. Whereas, to love a specific person, and to identify with his or her struggles and joys as if they were your own, you have to surrender some of your self."

Preparation is fallacy. Risk is everything. Much like the depth beyond the singles of your grandparents music collection, memory is the scapegoat expediting present criticism. Hell, even drake wisdom is valid: You never see it coming, only see it go away. Being present is perhaps the hardest lesson I've ever learned. I've tried to pass it on but I think it has to click on their own.

Final Trip to Franzen:

"But to expose your whole self, not just the likable surface, and to have it rejected, can be catastrophically painful. The prospect of pain generally, the pain of loss, of breakup, of death, is what makes it so tempting to avoid love and stay safely in the world of liking. And yet pain hurts but it doesn’t kill. When you consider the alternative — an anesthetized dream of self-sufficiency.

......the fundamental fact about all of us is that we’re alive for a while but will die before long. This fact is the real root cause of all our anger and pain and despair. And you can either run from this fact or, by way of love, you can embrace it."

So when I tell you I love you. I'm living. Embrace that so I can cheat death.

Leephilia according to WPrin

"You really do like older women, there has to be a name for you, like the opposite of pedophile"

Me: I'm sure there is

"Yeah, its Lee"

Leephilia: unreasonable attraction to older women

The Book of Disquiet: Part 1 (Select Quotes)

I see life as a roadside inn where I have to stay until the coach from the abyss pulls up. I don’t know where it will take me, because I don’t know anything. I could see this inn as a prison, for I’m compelled to wait in it; I could see it as a social centre, for it’s here that I meet others. But I’m neither impatient nor common. I leave who will to stay shut up in their rooms, sprawled out on beds where they sleeplessly wait, and I leave who will to chat in the parlours, from where their songs and voices conveniently drift out here to me. I’m sitting at the door, feasting my eyes and ears on the colours and sounds of the landscape, and I softly sing – for myself alone – wispy songs I compose while waiting. Night will fall on us all and the coach will pull up. I enjoy the breeze I’m given and the soul I was given to enjoy it with, and I no longer question or seek. If what I write in the book of travellers can, when read by others at some future date, also entertain them on their journey, then fine. If they don’t read it, or are not entertained, that’s fine too. - Fernando Pessoa



Walking on these streets, until the night falls, my life feels to me like the life they have. By day they’re full of meaningless activity; by night they’re full of a meaningless lack of it. By day I am nothing, and by night I am I. There is no difference between me and these streets and I a soul, which perhaps is irrelevant when we consider the essence of things. There is an equal, abstract destiny for men and for things; both have an equally indifferent designation in the algebra of the world’s mystery. - F.P.

What is Lee-ing?

Lee: (v) to badger a person for what is going on with them, smiley faces, and or giggles


People often use my name as an adverb or adjective....but now I'm defined as a verb by Emp.

Top Ten Books I Plan To Read Next

Zero Decibels - George M Foy (I've been searching for real silence a long time, piqued interest)

How to Be A Man - Glen O'Brien (one of my favorite people, "the style guy" from GQ and Interview Mag, so obviously gonna pick this up)

Devotion: A memoir - Dani Shapiro (uh...lol personal reasons?)

A Hundred Brothers - Donald Antrim ( Antrim is the author of my favorite book of all time "The Verficationist," and this is supposed to be his best book)

Final Quote of Tell Tale Brain by VS Ramachandran

"Science tells us we are merely beasts, but we dont feel like that. We feel like angels trapped inside the bodies of beasts, forever craving transcendence. The essential human predicament in a nutshell"

Transcend.

The Fly Alludes You, Walt

Pride is the prettiest face of fear.
Much like love of self is not self, reflecting, but being.
In eyes of blind birds is my awareness.
In a world where half of one is equal in value to one of two, but most of each lack understanding. The beach is a territorial growl of calm.
What you feel is not peace on shore, but what I ask is dance, a waltz on ventilated history, where I, and I alone, get chance with the rash of opportunity.

Does a puppet know its free?
A flow of motion unbound, because even bones restrict.
A smile of permanence, the truth of bliss is not always ignorant.
Until made aware of his string, he is stringless, but made aware of his string, he is strung.
O Puppet, do you not see the gift given unto you?
Poor puppet, stuck now in your mentality.
If only you knew understanding.
Love is joy, and Love is acceptance.
Accept joy. Its rare strangle.

How To Photograph Women Part 1 and 2

These playlists were inspired by the master photographer/editor Olivier Zahm's Los Angeles exhibit "How To Photograph Women" These are photos from the event, blurred by me, symbolic of the transition from still life to motion via artistic medium. Part One I like to call Sense, its a bit slower and structured like the energy lifted from a woman during touch. Part Two is called Motion; motion is in a way the evolution of sense, you feel then act. A special thanks to my personal homies Mac Tha Knife, FutureSounds, Jaafar, and to Olivier Zahm for the inspiration. Special thanks to Glam for making me actually do it.













How To Photograph Women Part 1:

http://www.megaupload.com/?d=RWO658HI

or

http://www.mediafire.com/?x3y7ys0tkyhw88q


How To Photograph Women Part 2:

http://www.megaupload.com/?d=Y6VH58B0


or

http://www.mediafire.com/?142qmvnjjbkt88q

An Autograph On A Shell

Faint but ever present, an aged follicle,
what once was but was at once to become a orgiastic array of collaged memory and being outgrown


sense qua sense via love qua love
l'air du desert marocain draped along the decorative linens of deceptions peripheral
the ornamentation of destiny across the coastal plain that is
bold, sonically;a hold, tonically
arresting, healing, building
the eternal whirlpool inwards of lusts vein
crying wolf as a predecessor for climatic evolution

No intensive folly, she feels.

Page 200

There is a brick wall in my backyard, that is to say, south of home

The Last Days of Mark Antony pt 1

The corroding wave continuously mates with the earth surround. Serenity devours calamity. She fights for position, a transition of loss, a blind reward.


The Last Days of Mark Antony.


Terrific, both meanings sublime. The only gift for a man with a kingdom, a cottage away from home. Hindsight, a glutton for emotional turmoil.

Charles Limb: Your brain on improv | Video on TED.com

Charles Limb: Your brain on improv | Video on TED.com