Writing Archives - Modern Romanticism

Words of Wisdom – “The Slavery of the Mind” – 8/17/2019

August 17, 2019
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“There are two forms of slavery, not merely one the one that comes to ordinary thought as chains, whips, and shackles. Mind and body are the two separations and the two focuses for each human. When the body is manipulated by the slaver, the slave begins to think for themselves. That is, the worker will have a personal goal. When the mind is manipulated by the slaver, the slave begins to have a personal focus on their body. In today’s time, when the body is a focus for women, it is because their mind has been enslaved. This makes the woman objectively never take proper care of her body. Should her intelligence be a focus for her, then her beauty comes as second-nature, and needs no obsessive focus. She can merely look beautiful, without thinking about it.

The slavery to the mind, is the second form of slavery seemingly made to be ‘subjective’ for today’s world. Drugs enslave the mind, and then when the mind is influenced by these drugs, the body is manipulated on its own. To enslave the mind, makes the body become the easy puppet. That is, the slave needs no direct master who calls himself ‘master’. That is, the slave will enslave themselves, and still call themselves ‘free’. That is to say that the body is what is easily seen, while everything for the mind is unseen.

Everything of the mind and its enslavement, will make the ‘slave’ cage themselves, for willingness to drop themselves below the face of power. In creation of Godhood, those only comforted resonate within the brain’s higher functions. Primate, and developed, and only through occasional distractions does any slave offer themselves comfort. And through this, that ‘slave’ will find such distractions to forever be temporary.

The mind, when enslaved, will not be the focus by the individual slave. The body, when enslaved, will not be the focus by the individual slave. This comes as the instinct to believe that the ‘master’ is ‘taking care’ of either the enslaved mind or enslaved body. All provisions are granted for the slave, so that continuation is made. That word known as ‘temporary’ holds its own meaning for the previous sentence to this one. From distraction, to the chore, makes the slave as life itself. To outlaw slavery would mean to outlaw life, and then to outlaw cruelty would only create a discouragement against cruelty.”

Words of Wisdom – “The World’s Pressing Relevance to Identification” – 8/16/2019

August 16, 2019
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“A person will seek out their enemy to hear the fullness of honesty. For this reason, a troubled person will never tell secrets to their friends. For this reason, a troubled person will be more likely to go to people they’ve never spoken to before, to hear honesty.

A troubled person will never tell their friends and family secrets, for fear of their friends and family becoming bitter enemies. And on the opposite end, a friend will never tell their own friend a bit of honesty, for fear of themselves turning from a friend to an enemy.

For this reason, a person will cling to a therapist.

For this reason, and for the same reason a person clings to a therapist and to unknowns, is for the same reason that a person of today clings to identity. And why does a person cling to identity, most of all? It’s for the reason that we live in world where we cannot at all love our enemies.

We find comfort in lies. Inevitably, a human finds more comfort in what was said by a friend, during the previous day, than what will be said by an enemy, as the truth, in one heated moment. That is, an argument with an enemy will spill more truth through the air, than a soft conversation with a friend. This is dwelling in lies. That is, to be around friendship constantly is to dwell in lies.

And for an additional reason why a person will cling to their own identity, is the same reason why a person of today will continually cling to things they already comprehend. That is, they will cling to themselves, to their friends, and to everyone else they already understand. No two enemies understand one another if they aren’t willing to take the effort; and if they were to argue, they may indeed understand more. If one plans to defeat their enemy, they will discover weaknesses. If one plans to befriend their enemy, they will also discover weaknesses, but never choose to exploit them. Rather, they will trust in every word that was said.

Today’s love of ‘identification’ has been born out of the purified definition of ‘division’. We form groups. We form families. We form tribes. And then, we begin to war with one another, until each family creates mutinies among the group, and Charles Darwin becomes the Prophet to reveal the truth of ‘Every man fighting for himself’.”

Poem – “A Beauty with Roses” – Romance

August 15, 2019
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Pleasure me with the face of roses,
And feed me your graces,
Long, was your tresses, made of ebony.
Stone-like, is your heart, and made of the same.
Find me next to nectar,
Let us leave the sacred altar,
And play nude in the mud.
Children are ignorant, while question is their infinity.

My beauty with stains of descent,
Upon soil, where your ragged flesh lies loose,
And a heart burdened in heaviness.
I toss more soil to silence whatever flame
Is still left to light the Earth,
And all its failing dwellers.

Name yourself upon the shape of my arm,
Twist yourself about the beautiful objects that stone me,
Make me warm, and make me wild,
Find me as a man of nothingness.

I feel fame as easily as pleasure,
Death and denial go as well
As the evening to strife upon life,
When we said to ourselves,
“We are meant to be,
Pleasured by pain, so evenly.”

We are the workers of a plentiful tomorrow,
The roses you bring are the tears you’ve shed.
As I am in love with the dead,
And I will play with the sand,
To share our story with those well-read,
To finally feel my heart enclosed in this hand.

Poem – “I’ll Begin to Raise Thee” – Romance

August 15, 2019
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Up from deprivation, I’ll begin, to raise thee,
To my contemplation, I have seen, to pull thee,
By my regret, I have not been, to free thee,
From a slumber, from a pain, from a madness
That should only, be known, to me.
Why should thou feel, when I am only, to suffer?
Such confuses me,
Whenever I see thee,
Born with tears, pasted against, thy worn cheeks,
And so many tunes, that come as weeps.

Why much sorrow, when the world stands, seemingly true?
Denial is but a virtue, so that pain, no longer surrounds.
We are, in vain, nested, in pain,
Not by darker moments,
But by willingness, to express it.

Why much tears, enough to flood plains, with their wetness?
I find no meaning, in their existence.
I fail to see, thy complexion,
As anything, but tied to water,
And the great ocean, that surrounds, thy lips.

I have offered kisses, to quell thy mourning,
Of what, such a future, of disaster, may bring down
Upon thy quivering and aching form.

Let us, make us, miserable no longer,
What will pleasure, come as,
As birds, where we fly, with wings broken, like deadened gulls,
That have, met a storm, to bring them down.

Let us weep no longer,
No more, the feeling, of sorrow, of remembrance, to guilt,
We are living, in our dreams, in our oceans
When we, should be, living in arms.

Words of Wisdom – “A Woman’s Submission” – 8/14/2019

August 14, 2019
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“There is no greater power than the will to release.

To differ the necessity from the convenience is the direct difference between life and death. It is the difference between the simplicity and the complexity. In life, we dwell over death, over failure. In failure, we have failed, and we have nothing else, for we are dead.

The beauty in submission is to reject all external measures of ‘diverse wealth’, because that introduces death to life. Diversity, that is, is the death. The dwelling; the constant question; and then, the confusion, makes the one without simplicity, enough to draw upon the whereabouts of darkness, into life.

In death, beauty has been buried. Recognition rots, and we soon see a person’s skeleton as any other skeleton, for it was covered in flesh when the person was alive.

We had recognized the eyes, and now as a skeleton, there are no eyes.

We had recognized the lips, and now as a skeleton, there are no lips.

Submission comes naturally to a woman, when she will reject the multiple complexities of a world that offers her much.

To a man’s eyes, the only thing he desires for a woman is to see her dressed in simplicity. As if she were in the bedroom, bared in flesh, and not overdrawn in garments so much to clothe her naked form.

And there is nothing worse in a world than to tease truth.

To be half-clothed, turns truth towards uncertainty.

To be half-clothed, makes honesty only half-way released. It makes the orgasm only half-way expended, and the love only half-way given. One should not ‘slightly agree’ or ‘neither agree nor disagree’ as it would ask for in a survey, but only either say ‘yes’ or ‘no’. That is the honesty.

Honesty is never partially given, and should be known for its answer in the immediate moment.

For a deceived world, people will continually ‘work to discover their truth’.

They will unearth that ‘buried beauty’ and disturb graves.

Metaphorically speaking, they will do this.

They will unearth history, rather than leaving the past to rot. And why are the people who enjoy ‘discovering their truth’ more prone to committing suicide? It’s for the reason of what depression does to the human. Depression is, as a definition, a focus on the past.

Honesty is immediate and offered by Nature upon birth.

And soon, one will carry that truth until they die.

For submission, honesty and simplicity are very much important aspects to what ‘weakness’ stands for; and that is, to be vulnerable when one should never hold a statement back.

One is always vulnerable when conveying truth.

In tears, or in rage, that is when a person releases.”

Words of Wisdom – “Worth is a Judgement” – 8/12/2019

August 12, 2019
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“Has the bottle of wine knowledge of its worth without the connoisseur to name it? Has the book that has been translated extensively knowledge of its own worth, or even of the worth of knowledge within it, without another to name it? No.

Those who say that the one can only define themselves, are wrong.

This is the mindset of a someone who believes them to be the last person remaining on earth. That they have defeated all opponents, are safe because no one dares to challenge them, and the status they place upon themselves is ‘free to roam’.

They are people who have awoken to find themselves standing as the ruler to every forest and every lake. That is, they are the epitome to every fragment of arrogance a human has ever displayed, either spoken by word, or revealed by gesture of hand.

Where is the contentment in knowing that one’s own worth is only judged by the self? These are people who believe themselves incapable of being controlled or dominated. It opens up vulnerability, and even of themselves, they are unable to contain their own weaknesses.

That is, again, a belief in the comfort of loneliness. Sheltered by either a corner, or by complete darkness, that is the soul of such a person.

They are also people to believe that a friend is the only sort of person to ever show honesty. This is an untrue assumption.

One’s enemy will show more truth than ever a friend will speak of it. That is because one always avoids their vulnerabilities. That is to say that such people always lie to themselves. In every battle a human faces, or every trial, or every discipline, there is always discovery. That is to say that the greatest of discovery always comes from knowing one’s enemies.

And within a world with a mindset that tells the individual to only trust friendship, and to be the only one to define themselves, makes the individual without discovery. They are stagnant. And when something is stagnant for too long, it begins to decline.

To imagine the object when it rises, it must stay still for a moment, before it descends.

Such truth from an enemy is always greater than ever a friend will show. How is this? It is because a friend is already known. An enemy is unknown, and most certainly because he’s always avoided.

And most of all, a friend will never be fully honest with their own friend, will be fearful of speaking directly about another’s flaws, for fear of becoming their enemy.

From an enemy, worth is judged.

From a friend, worth is stagnant, and age never carries along the maturity one is supposed to manifest of themselves, through wisdom.”

Words of Wisdom – “Diversity Among the Artist” – 8/3/2019

August 3, 2019
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“There is nothing so deplorable as never having a focus, never having a certainty, and never having an identity. It results in confusion, and soon, a desire to be anything, change truth around so you can be that anything, and soon, never be aware that you may have become a monster. Do monsters possess humanity? Sure. How else would they scream to let us know they are in pain? How else would they bleed so we know they can die, so they can be slain? The artist without the brush, is alike to the human without fingers. Without the ability to grasp that which will become us, makes us lifeless and without purpose. However, there should be that focus, that way to distinguish ourselves, as the one person from the next one person. For we can distinguish Van Gogh from Da Vinci, through a mere glance at either artist’s work; though, are we somehow, in a world of ‘anything goes’, able to be both ourselves, and someone else? Would Van Gogh, were he to live in the time of the Renaissance, want to be like Da Vinci, or would his identity in knowing who he is, as Van Gogh, be enough? How does a world function in ‘wanting all’? It must function in terms of envy upon lust, and then, lust upon greed, and then, greed upon pride.

Every deteriorating society always ends with the sin of ‘sloth’, soon as either a man or a woman comprehend that their immediate and focused purpose is lost, has been stolen, or never was.”

Prose – “Nine Months to Live” – First Chapter – “A Conception in Duress” – 8/1/2019

August 1, 2019
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Lust!

Oh, love; without the work required, would make it mere dust.

Beauty is the flesh, the molded clay, and the truth that is continually spun into a different shape. Whoever is the political leader of the day, becomes society’s sculptor, and the sculptor of every piece of flesh.

A neck must turn a head upwards.

A face must see a God, when looking upwards in that direction towards a light.

Oh, science; it holds fields, and only fields, of such named studies, where the researchers will only face their eyes upon the ground. When one peers ahead, one sees the future. When one peers at their feet, they do feel miserable by seeing the past. History is not merely recorded, but also dug up, explored and discovered.

Love has two hands, and they both tremble in the fear and worries of a past.

A man now explores a woman, in what we see before us. A man of ragged appearance, with death on the edges to his fingertips; he explores with a shovel; no, not a shovel, but a dagger that is shaped smallest it could ever be, in possibility. No one had shaped its smallness but the frail mind of this withered man. He is a rapist. His mind is terrible, while his instincts are ever-so worse the cause for destruction. Death is his music; and where he makes marks, they are not stayed with the feet upon a woman’s ground.

He moves as the boat that rocks atop the waves.

He runs his face over her fearful eyes and runs his mouth over her quivering lips.

He moves his hands at her hips, to turn such round curves into jagged edges, so they no longer appear as the Earth with its same curvature.

Love; and why do we speak of love, through such a scene?

It is due to one detail.

Fragments.

A woman raped, is the woman removed of her modesty, of her warmth, and one can guess she’d feel the same “loss” as when she is removed of love. A lover, that is, to be removed from her life, makes the woman unprotected.

And what had been her protector, this woman named Lucia who now lays on her back in some dusty back-alley, besides what is now that same word? Fragments. Torn flesh, is the ragged flesh, is the bleeding wound, the same wound from everything lost. Of flesh, of virginity, of any mark that touches something made to be warm, from protection. Clothing would protect from the cold. An embrace would protect from the coldness of loneliness.

And now, there are fragments.

Words of Wisdom – “The Craved Apology” – 7/30/2019

July 30, 2019
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“There is nothing so despicable as being the one who craves the apology enough to display sexual arousal from hearing one. An apology is the comfort of dishonesty in its direct definition. For why else does one who shouts become shocked at their own words, enough to state that they ‘didn’t mean’ what was said? It is because even the speakers of truth are shocked by what they’ve said, which was the truth, which was what they had meant to say. Denial falters the saying of truth, and one will always deny what will make them vulnerable. People deny their own weaknesses. People believe themselves indestructible, to infinitely gain success, though such a mindset displays the greatest weakness: the denial that there is one. People are pathetic in this regard, and so an apology merely becomes the excuse that reverts what was said back to a man’s heart, after he’s silenced a woman from his own honesty. For honesty cannot at all be kind, without it being disguised, and this is factual. Without honesty as the solid color, and never the collection of colors, honesty becomes only a fragment of its wholeness, and this, as well, is factual.”

Words of Wisdom – “Equal only among Vulnerability” – 7/29/2019

July 29, 2019
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“Among work, no equality. Among work, only competition and the endless discontent that is in life. It is not to say that work should be extinguished, for then life would be extinguished. Take away work, and one can only fall or wish to rise; and that means, wishing to rise, makes the pauper the one with the broken wings. Life is beautiful, as it is said, and this is true. Although, as life, and like truth, both can be shaped, through deceit or the truth that is the same as deceit, into anything.

Among love, and among death, there is vulnerability. There is the only equality a human has ever known. Upon the lowest end, one can see where one has leveled themselves; closest to the grave, that is, and one is indeed at the same height as another, close to death. When one is in love, this is a vulnerability also at the same height. An infinite height.

The infinite height of love is where truth has been lifted.

We yearn to rise, as paupers, or die, as paupers.

We yearn for more and more, as discontented people of life.

And we should yearn for nothing else when dead, or when in love.”