Animal's House of Muse

Vibes to Feed the Hasty Soul with the States of All that Matters

Month: May, 2015

Assuredly, I Can’t Be Serious

There’s a subtle, yet powerful difference between longing and daydream. Both are tempestuous liaisons for Attention, directing its navigation between the Sea of Imagination and the Actual Ocean of Thought. Both serve the nonsensical sails of HMS Purposiveness and USS Irrational, alike. And both christen for Sovereignty a determined escape from the landscape of such aforementioned relations, altogether. But though both attributes of Self evidently salinate in natural communion, only one holds the heart of all matters at its mercy. Where the latter leads the tending subject into conditionally light and sunny objectivity, the anoetic former leaves it squished for dead like an ugly bug in the bathroom- HOW DARE YOU SHOCK ME HERE?! … *ahem* … Recognizing this pretense, I assuredly dwell on the high ground which acts as a bulwark for my eternal flame; entertaining neither winds, nor nerve; immobile and constant.

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My Doctor Told Me I Should Meditate…

Hi flower! I need your help. How is it, flower, that you get me to thinking about my own thinking? Do you think? Do you speak? I’m pretty sure you speak to me, but are you sure you speak to others in the same manner? I love your leaves, and how they’re a little bit hairy. I love your stem, even more hairy than your leaves. The pores by which you feed are showing, yet you’re still modest. Though, I will say, you work it quite well; your veins subtly revealing themselves as aesthetic compliments to the function which you may or may not possess. Do you possess, oh flower? If so, you surely possess me. Do you feel my gaze? Do you see me? Do I see you, even?! If so, will you ask your buddy rain to leave a baby bit of space for me to humbly participate in the primacy of your growth? May I grow with you forever? May I grow with you even if your life is cut short by an irresponsible lawn-mower? I hope to God that you never get run over by an irresponsible lawn-mower. But if you do, know that I’ll keep for your sake the stakes we took from indubitableness. I’ll always remember the sparkling hue of your champagne petals, your sturdy roots entangled, implied beneath the soil, and the way you wink at me when the sun’s not paying attention. Your form is timeless, insofar as I keep time with your presence; insofar as I thank you for being there. Thank you flower. Thank you for being there. Now please go away… I’ve got things to do…

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Eating is a Form of Having

I find philosophy to be the best means available my preposterously postured person, slumped with the pathetic frumps of misunderstanding, by which I may wear my worry well. Though, one may ask, does a true love of wisdom involve mere means to material assurance? Well of course it does! Such pragmatic promise is purely ontological icing atop a practically pertinent cake! Care for a bite?

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In Determining Whether or Not One Ought to Spay and Neuter One’s Moods and Subdivisions, Respectively

The temporal realm is fixed
How does experience remain still; all broken up?

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