A Chipped Mirror

I look in the mirror and see myself. Is this who I am and what I’ll always be? They say a man is only a man so much as they fight; have I done my fighting?

My CEO messages me over email, we’re reading books together. We have several email threads going, full of thoughts and ideals.

We throw our values at each other. Digesting and analyzing each others judgements, separating noise from signal, partials from Truth. We’re sparring, but only in thought-space.

I type out a lengthy reply to his statement on the state of the today’s society. We live in purgatory he says. But Isaac, what if the world was already saved? Can’t you see that we have nothing to worry about anymore?

Yet, despite this, I know he’s quite similar to me. Indeed that we’re even typing about these things to each other, isn’t that the greatest sign of our likeness? Yet somehow the smallest differences are the hardest to overcome.

I wonder if he has any fun. I wonder if deep down, his heart, his spirit, his self, something was torn away from him. Is it because he’s talented yet also idealistic that leads him to shoulder the burden of pain? That the self-reflective man lives in infinitely crueler life knowing he’s the only one to blame? Hindsight my dear, hindsight kills.

But am I not of the same character as him, largely Alone, facing shadows daily for… for what? For my ideals? For the world? For others? Or simply for killing time, boredom; the more talented a person, the quicker they grow bored, and boredom, boredom is the worst punishment.

He sends me a lengthy email in reply, and at once, I am disappointed at the tone. I read,

“If I am the Devil Incarnate, I am also God.
I feel I am neither.
If I am anything, I am just a servant of higher powers.”

A servant… and how I wanted to slap my companion! This kindred spirit of mine, lying down, submitting in pain, in sorrow, in someone else’s name!

Is it not our will that compels us to stand up? To continue on in service of ourselves despite ourselves? That we may laugh a bit more, that we may fight! To rally the call of absurdity, to see to it that we fight, despite not knowing why.

Stand up my friend. Stand up and fight! For did you not see a younger you in me? And did I not see an older me in you? But then isn’t it our destiny to continue on too?

So that is why I fear. That when I look in the mirror, perhaps that I be weary and beaten too. I hear the hidden echoes, “You will tire as I have too kid.”

And he smiles. And I will slap that smile too. He is not done fighting, and neither of us are through. But just because I don’t believe, doesn’t mean it’s not true.

For Those Who Would Spread Love

I profess, in you I see much to love! But this is not enough, you’re fearfulness shakes me up inside. Where love is pure yours is amuck!

There’s something there that shouldn’t be. What is it? Huh, do tell me dear –in your speech, you profess to me:

–‘Love I see! Is the most important thing. And to spread this gift, the only thing.

I stand above these sharks, who would hurt and follow –and my heart is weak, from anything too shallow.’

But dear, what is love? For doesn’t nature show the cruelest touch? A mother bird pushes her darlings from the nest –and die they might, but so they must fly!

‘It’s interesting you should say! But still I see kindliness –and is this not what we should all aspire to? Polite and curt?

There’s nothing worse than a man who makes a huge fuss –over what? Nothing! And they speak bad words, backstab, and hurt.

Isn’t it better, if we lived without hurt?’

But did you not just –fuss over this man? And did you just not betray, your hate for his kind?

Where is your love for him? That I should ask –because it seems that your love, is not as far as I thought.

‘No, you have me wrong! I only mean to say –that this is a part. In person I’d never, say any of these words.’

Your actions betray your self-contained world! That you should speak these words to me –behind the backs of these sorts of men.

And even worse that in person, you’d never let them know of your honest thoughts.

‘But do you mean to say that I’m petty too? I can’t see how that could be true! I’ve done nothing wrong –I’ve only said words.’

But precisely this –you’ve never done good. You’ve never accepted fear –you run from it too quickly to see what it’s trying to say. And if you did, you’d act –and follow a different path of pain.

But instead you hide, in love’s warm domain –and in its name you excuse yourself, from doing anything great.

For My Dad

By this time in my life, I’d hoped to have overcome enough struggles to have found some Truth. And I have, but if there’s anything I know, is that man deceives himself.

My Dad called me yesterday. He’d just gotten home from China recently and was excited to see me; I wasn’t there.

I’d left to LA in pursuit of. And in my pursuing it meant that I had to leave home earlier than he expected, earlier than I expected. Regardless, I left, he came home, I wasn’t there, he called, and we agreed that he would come up to LA for my birthday.

He called me last night and said he would be in LA tomorrow night. I’d lost track of time over the weekend, it hadn’t realized tomorrow was my birthday. I checked my phone –close enough, two days before my birthday.

I questioned if he was staying for the weekend. And he continually affirmed that we were just getting dinner. Just getting dinner?

A pang of guilt washed over me, and I thought of myself. I didn’t want my Father to drive all the way from NorCal to SoCal just to see me for one dinner.

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For Those Who Think But Don’t Think

First: read the primer on thought –for why this is important.
Second: Think for yourself.

Are we done telling people to stop thinking? I’ve heard it a lot. Will, you think too much. Will, just take a break. Will, –actually never-mind.

How long I had thought that thinking was wrong! That it was, and is something to be detested. What does thought give you? Headaches, pain, realization.

Ah –realization, a woman that skirts to your bedside and leaves just as quickly. Floating in an out, never fully formed, non-consummated, until it is. But then of course, it’s boring, and the next woman is called over.

Realization is pain –it plays games with you, so that you can be tested. Do you deserve the fruits of this understanding? And can you handle what it means to understand?

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I remember too when I wanted to relax my mind. The human can get used to anything I suppose. Thought flows in such angry, explosive ways –it’s no wonder we’re scared of it, that it would consume us and sweep us away.

And should you let it grow it becomes the deepest friend –a person, that you speak to on a whim.

Do you trust this friend? Do you let it be? Or do you try to shape it, make it more than it ought to be?

I’ve seen those men that backstab their friends. Their bloody eyes claim that sorry is enough. But a mistake held ruefully, they would surmise. That in the end, an eye is met with an eye.

I’ve seen those that let it be. They clamor about the weather then go to sleep. They struggle to move about and feel their feet, and their thought struggles with no purpose, ebbing like the sea.

And for those that try to sharpen it –a earnest try indeed. But when you visit with a list of grieves, not in spite, but holding it you proceed… That her eyes were not colorful enough, that she seldom sees to work, that perhaps it’d be better if she didn’t overlook! Well my friend, you’re no longer with that girl.

How do you treat your friend then? Well, I presume with laughter and good mead. But does this lead to debauchery? Perhaps this is all that’s meant to be.

Answer me skies and heaven! What is it that this friendship holds? What is the destiny, of the friendship that we mold?

But the heavens do not answer. I turn to my hapless friend. Thought he stares back at me and says, “Look I have bones!

That they should let me stand tall, and move about on my own.

Is this not what I am for? But look you’ve treated me like an old unmatched sock! Left without a second thought!”

And how right my hapless friend was! That we disrespect our thought, overestimate it, let it slack off.

This is no way to treat one’s body! Much less one’s thought.

Would you let your body rot as well? That you would feed it garbage, pills, and sweetly treats?

Would you punish your body overly? That you would exhaust yourself until you fell?

Would you lash out at your body if one day it failed to move? That you would not instead try in earnest, to recoup?

Treat your body well! But then what of your mind and thought?

This friend, he cries out to explore! Then will you let him out the door?

Cogito ergo sum.


And suddenly my mind crashed from raging heights –into the present of now.

I speak! To that man, I laugh! For I do not honor him, thus I honor him. Thus I spite what he says! Thus I heard him best.

I cast his torch on the ground! And pick it up not as his, but as my own, lying on the floor. And for this he must surely weep –for no one man could have understood better, who would go on to destroy even that which he valued.

Into a bolder, newer future I say –for the rabble have picked up your words as a saint! And was this not precisely your greatest fear? That the people would deceive themselves again? That precisely, they would believe what you said, and in doing so, not understand?

What strength you had then! But lie in your grave! Time has past for you –so let me march where you have died; as now I use you, to overcome your truths that have become yet more lies.

For Francis

Our perception as humans are incapable of grasping that which is our will to will.
—What we must do.
Therefore, humans must at once accept their not-knowing to truly overcome themselves and thus know by embodiment.

The warrior fights and does not get spared.
He willingly dies — if need be, and laughs all the way inside.

First a quote:

Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth. -Mary Schmich

This is Self, and yet, not for me.

Any and all things I say are inherently partials.
The whole only comes about from your own grasping.

The most meaningful thing I can say is don’t think about it.
Instead, ask yourself — what would I dare NOT do?
The gestalt lies in the formation of two binaries, two opposites, a paradox being reconciled.
The gestalt in relation to the Truth of Self — that which is embodiment.
Thus the only conclusion — to arrive at, that Truth of Self is necessarily to reconcile all the paradoxes of your Self.

Only you know what that is — or rather, only you can know that which it is that you must do based on what that is.
And the mind will rebel, and the heart will rebel, and the soul with rebel, and there will be no understanding or peace in the moment — but then, when is there ever?
Only after. Only ever after. Or maybe never.

But that wasn’t important to begin with.

The Gift

All that I am.
All that I was.
All of these things, I can let go now.
It seems bizarre to me that the world holds all its mementos in people.

Its existence is dependent on us, for without our perception, would the world even know itself?

How much we suffer for this perception, but how much we are able then to enjoy, to live, to truly live.

Such is the gift.
Such is the price.
Such is the nature.
Of all things.