i quote

ʎʞunɟ˙

Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is nonexistent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery—celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from—it’s where you take them to.”

Just because

we bleed

we damage

we heal

we bandage

To I

I die to my consciousness

I die to myself

My every breath

My every action

My every feeling

My every desire

I die to my consciousness

I die to the ‘me’

My musings

My dreams

My hopes

My joys

And my sorrows

I die to my consciousness

I die to my distractions

My fervent jealousy

My crippling fears

My laziness and to

The cage that is I

I die to my consciousness

I die to I

Comma

What does the future hold for us?

This has been a question that has crossed the lips of men since the dawn of time. Men, mystified with the unknown, have been baffled and curious with the trifling and teasing hand of the future.

Only death is the certain conclusion to the stories of men.

Only death is sure.

Only death is stable.

Only death is constant.

It is the period of every great story.

Though death is commonly associated with the end, it is, surprisingly, alsoassociated with the beginning and the middle. If dying wasn’t confusing enough, Socrates, the splendid man that he is, added a factor to our already perplexing lives.

That factor is called ‘Dying to the past.’

Quite contradictory to what has been taught to us, dying to the past entails us to die to ourselves, whilst we live and breathe.

Now

I know what you’re thinking…

How the hell is that possible?

One word: Philosophy.

To die to ourselves is freedom from the clamors of the materialistic and physical world. But before you take a dive into the noose I must advise you that the death we speak is far from the death we know. Though dying to the past is a means to death, it is not as scary as one may think. Or is it?

Dying to the past entails such ‘deaths’:

Dying to knowledge

Dying to perception

Dying to memory

And

Dying to emotions, feelings or desires

Dying to the past, it seems, means dying to every single thing we know about life, and every single thing we know about ourselves and each other.

Dying to the past takes out our most basic instincts… things that have been taught to us God knows when.

We are expected to sacrifice our fears,

our hearts,

our minds,

our senses

But,

Surprisingly,

Not our souls.

So though we are asked to rip ourselves apart just so we can prepare for the separation of our souls and our bodies, we still have something to hope for;

The hope that we will be immortal beyond the metal cages of time;

The hope that we will continue,

That our stories have not ended in periods,

but only in commas.

But then again how are we sure that all this dying to the past will achieve something worthy of death? How are we sure that our souls live on?

How are we sure?

How do we know?

But I guess that’s the thing with philosophy,

We never really know.

So it’s up to you…

Do you think this is all worth it?

Whether it be dying to past or in the future,

Is it all worth it?

I guess we'll never really know

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