Marken

the good stuff

[Marken @JaredMarken]

Though the peaks of bliss and troughs of sorrow all form the worth of life, no value can surmount the development of one’s soul.

There is no greater tragedy than the compromise and ensuing tarnishment of one’s soul in exchange for heightening one of life’s futile peaks.

[Marken @JaredMarken]

Why is it that we miss mainly and long only for what we do not have? Certainly, even if we once had what we miss or long for, it is something that has passed. Conversely, the future focus is likewise nonexistent.

Yet the dammed present is rarely wished to prolong.

[Marken @JaredMarken]

Ye, we reap what we sow; we also reap what we neglect…

[Marken @JaredMarken]

The rarity of true altruism demands gratitude when authentic.

All rare occurrences and matters must be appreciated for its rarity.

Altruism is no different other than it demands higher appreciation because in addition to its rarity, it manifests perfect beauty.

[Marken @JaredMarken]

Ye, if I must sin (which I must for it is inevitable) I wish to sin against myself rather than against my fellow man.

Whether sadistic or altruistic, maybe this intentional trajection of inevitable harm may serve as righteous motive to preserve my soul.

[Marken @JaredMarken]

Though various fowl, insects, and other beasts may sprawl feathers, enlarge themselves, or otherwise aggrandize to threaten and intimidate other such same bred critters, I do not wish to play with such cinematic foolery—I will be better rather than merely puffer the same.

[Marken @JaredMarken]

Oh the beauty when one’s purporting aligns with their living

[Marken @JaredMarken]

To make it a goal to think as little as possible, beyond what is necessary, of one’s own problems.

I must worry about others problems daily, yet I see my dedication to resolving others problems is often unnecessary for an improved end.

I will enjoy until more is required.

[Marken @JaredMarken]

Bitter-sweet: I am now called brilliant far more often than I’m called hot.

Unless it’s from a random guy on the street…

[Marken @JaredMarken]

The difficulty of resolving issues derived from human nature, as opposed to physical nature, is that human nature is doomed to fault.

The measurement therefore is not correctness, but the degrees of presence of the same.

[Marken @JaredMarken]

Strange how religion can mis-validate otherwise improper or antisocial behavior

[Marken @JaredMarken]

I have never seen a group so willingly forego the pursuit of fully understanding terms art as Christians

[Marken @JaredMarken]

Funny how people often use terms of art or other complicated language to mask their lack of comprehension and problem solving ability for the subject.

If not masked with fraudulent intellect, then pathos, or acclaimed religious affiliation.

[Marken @JaredMarken]

Listening to trap country while sipping a local IPA while walking back from the office in San Diego; I could not have imagined the bliss of this life, now a reality, of mine.

[Marken @JaredMarken]

Pour les âmes qui ont soif
https://t.co/Tuigf6VYBY

[Marken @JaredMarken]

Why does my water in my @HydroFlask taste like goat milk…

[Marken @JaredMarken]

I know the last tweet contained masses of grammatical and linguistic errors which defer from the message it conveys.

I will repair.

And the message for which it stands will aggrandize.

[Marken @JaredMarken]

The community self affirms what they desire.

Obsessed with their image—idolatry!

The wanderer have no home

Who, I ask who, embodies pisteuō?

The illusion of communal-praising comfort, or the wanderer with nothing. nothing but their cling to hoping for truth.

[Marken @JaredMarken]

Oh, blind are those who find “truth” through the collective ever encircled affirmations of truth from other circles inhabitants.

Oh the blue and confident they hold of a rock which they stand on, which is made of nothing more than their communal-affirming affirmations.

[Marken @JaredMarken]

He hopes—what else may he cling to.

Pisteuō, to rely on like one’s life depends on it.

That is what is written in the crux of the communal beliefs, is it not?

May dismay of solitude be the illusion?