On Cowardice, Muses, and Dante
Many moons ago, the muses would whisper in my ear that I must take the path I most fear. For years I took that path, but for the last couple of years my path has been one of cowardice. I would not enter a dark woodland without a torch—and that made all the difference. I used books, essays, and thoughts of others as armour; alas, 'twas made of sugar. At any hint of rain, the armour would melt away, leaving behind all that I had stopped facing.
" Master...Who are those people so defeated by their pain?" And he to me: "This miserable way is taken by the sorry souls of those who lived without disgrace and without praise. They now commingle with the coward angels, the company of those who were neither rebels nor faithful to their God, but stood apart. The heavens, that their beauty not be lessened, have cast them out; nor will deep Hell receive them—even the wicked cannot glory in them."— Dante Alighieri
I became like Echo and Narcissus—my thoughts not my own; self-absorbed in consumption and rumination of self—neither good nor healthy. How could I have heard their whispers when all I heard were the words of others spewed out by my tongue into the cave and echoing back; believing them to be my own? The rational mind can convince oneself of almost anything. Yet the muses know when to come.
Not all are visited. Not all who think they wish to be visited would say so had they experienced what I've described. 'Tis hard to ignore the muses—for who are you to ignore them? After all, they had billions to choose from yet settled upon a thousand or two. When you stare into the abyss long enough, you realise it is an abyss.
A nothingness—not to be toyed with lightly, no doubt. But at some point you realise the abyss is you; 'tis not out there but within. When the abyss stares back at you, it is oneself looking at oneself. At that moment one realises the abyss is not an entity like a black hole but an inner path that needs to be faced and examined—for this is the only way to illuminate what was once dark.
After staring at it long enough, you face it; when you face it, you illuminate it; when you illuminate it, you see clearly all those parts of yourself you feared or felt ashamed of—sometimes rightly so. Yet the transformative act lies in one's voluntary encounter with that which one least wants to confront.
"To get back up to the shining world from there My guide and I went into that hidden tunnel; And following its path, we took no care To rest, but climbed: he first, then I—so far Through a round aperture I saw appear Some of the beautiful things that Heaven bears; Where we came forth, and once more saw the stars."— Dante Alighieri
My modus operandi was facing it; if I was one thing, I was a man who faced it—perhaps not possessing much innate talent or intelligence—but having an ability to confront that which most do not. At some point I stopped doing this. I don't know why; there are many good reasons—but they are irrelevant for now.
How is this connected to the muses? They know whether your inner ruminations match your outer machinations. When there's chaos between inner and outer worlds, they seem to disappear. The closer you return to synthesis between these two worlds, the louder their whispers become once more. Cowardice deafens; no muse shall be amused by a soul whom she realises is playing a ruse—he is both cat and mouse; dog and tail. In circles he spins and spirals deeper into his inferno.
I thank the muses for glimmers of whispers once more—for any halfway good idea I've ever had was theirs; I am merely a vehicle. For millennia great men have said this—so who am I to deny this experience if I've felt what they felt, heard what they heard, and seen what they saw?
Cherry blossoms more like cherry bossoms am I right cause boobs do u get the premise of the joke here it’s funny because it’d immature and childish and whimsy and good for ur inner child who hasn’t had their dopamine receptors fried yet so even the word boob was hilarious
@palomazegarra “Ur nation” being any nation making child not u specifically / a hypothetical person from a nation making chips i have convos with in my head
i don’t care about the smallness of ur chips i care mostly that you explain to me what the vernacular is for describing thing at nanometer scale. How do you say wow congrats yours are the smallest I’ve ever seen in a professional scientific parlance, this is serious what do say
@palomazegarra It’s a typo u silly goose it’s a place holder for ur nation meaning whatever nationality im talking to that has smallest chips ur missing the point which is mostly me being tortured by what words to use to describe things that are small
This is an excerpt from my upcoming collection of essays about a man who just was, there was nothing about him other than him being here I guess and there. I’m trying to say he was biologically alive and did human activities. He was neither loved nor hated some liked him. Others probably not. Sometimes he made mistakes at times he learnt from them. You could call him something like the story of the man.
And it a tale of man who’s here and there at all times past and present but not in a magical cool way. It’s just how humans work. Some jsut are and always have been. Now, then and tomorrow and likely for many tomorrows to come. You can think of this collection of essays as a compendium of tales of being what we are and once and once were. But it in a cool way. It’s very predictable. You will know exactly what’s happening at all times and what the next page will say and person will do. I think it will be a hit in france.
There’s no ending to any of the tales people just die of human reasons sometimes it’s sad sometimes it’s inevitable, most of the cases here are inevitable so it’s not that sad made second edition will have more sadder fates
One day you’ll wake up at 3pm to start your day with your beautiful wife and kids who just got back from a productive day at school. Your wife prepared lunch, took them to school, collected them, and let you sleep. Your mouth is dry like Arizona. You open the fridge, grab a pickle and a glizzy to freshen your palate. You smile, then crack a joke: “Haha hey honey, I’m such a goofball for sleeping in till 3, right? It’s so me, isn’t it…”
It’s been 20 years. Each morning the same glizzy, same pickle, same joke. Your kids are long in employment, yet every morning their mother still drives them to school and brings them back at 3pm. You wake with a dry mouth, open the fridge, grab a pickle… you get the point. Life is good. Everyone you’ve ever loved tailored their existence to the exact way you dreamed to live: to wake at 3 with a dry mouth, moisten it with a pickle, and kickstart the day’s protein intake with a beef glizzy.
This is what you worked hard for. You have no hobbies and do almost nothing. Sometimes you work, but only a day at a time, as you must sleep at hours that allow a 3pm wake-up so you’re there when your wife and kids return. You are 57. Now it’s the grandkids who visit. They are mute and don’t know you; they know you only as the pickle man who dreamed a dream. To them, you are all you ever wanted to be.
A successful man is one who does what he said he wanted to do. All you wanted was a pickle and a glizzy in the morning. Everyone you’ve ever loved is now dead. Your sedentary lifestyle and healthy diet have added at least 20 extra years of existence, but with no wife and no offspring who barely know you. What was all the hard work for? Why did you want your mouth to feel like sandpaper each morning? Why the pickle and glizzy? Perhaps there’s more to life. I guess you’ll never know.
you know how there’s meeorisl day and Labour Day let’s make a Labour Day for online workers; those who earn via the web; the quiet everyday heroes that make our worlds go round and dimples go side to side from laughing at their output often in form of sketches
Here is to the ppl of the web and the world web and other platform reliant on sea cable connections here’s to you, today is your day, may you find peace in that basement, remember you can always end it all tomorrow so never end it now. Ur out of milk 4 tea, u need 2 go shop, ur mum likes milk in her tea. Don’t spit on her this time Shed just asking for u 2 do
Ur part in the house. 2% milk u will need. Anyway yeh whatever jsut stop doing that. Anyway i guess that’s that.
@alexwickham idk how u can work at Bloomberg not triple check ur confidence in saying that this is “new” information when variations of this issue have been discussed since 2017, it’s arguably the least new spy gossip in quite a while
right now u will mock this and some will say its so wrong that its not even worthy of describing as such: in twenty years we shall see who will be the last to be laughing because it wont be me, I haven’t laughed since she left me, I still smell her joy in my dreams and the sparks in her eyes whenever she laughed each night I look up at the night sky, anyway yeah girard I guess
I hope you’re pursuit of engagement on this platform brings you sufficient financial stability to put food on the table, to love your wife and to start a fund for your kids colleges. May you find your American dream on the everything app. The new and next buffet is right here.
Memesis doesn’t lead to conflict but riches and shared prosperity for we now need merely one man to crack the code for all to follow and reap the benefit. That’s the secret hidden since the foundation of the world. Thank you thiel. My fellow straussian. All the way down
It has a piker goes to jail I will becoming a streamer in solidarity despite having no connection nor affection for him but I think we need another 6’5 man who speaks of nothing of substance for 3 hours and u pay me for it nd maybe I make myself look cute for u with haircuts