Forwarded from BC Neanderthal Mindset
This tribalism can take any form: religious, racial, political, philosophical, or any possible distinction you can think of. To believe that we can somehow manage to create a global utopia by breaking this innate drive, uniting all these manifestations of division, is extremely naïve and foolish.
Nature doesn't give a fuck what we like. I'm sure none of us like the excruciating physical pain that comes with a serious injury, or the gut-wrenching feeling of losing a loved one, but those moments of suffering serve a purpose; and again, Nature doesn't give a fuck if we don't like them.
One facet of our purpose is to play this game and win, for as long as we can, until our time in this world expires.
None of us can quit the game unless we take our own lives. So if you choose life, then you must play the game of life.
Do not be ashamed of your nature, and what you are designed to do.
Complacency is our enemy, and should be rooted out.
Nature doesn't give a fuck what we like. I'm sure none of us like the excruciating physical pain that comes with a serious injury, or the gut-wrenching feeling of losing a loved one, but those moments of suffering serve a purpose; and again, Nature doesn't give a fuck if we don't like them.
One facet of our purpose is to play this game and win, for as long as we can, until our time in this world expires.
None of us can quit the game unless we take our own lives. So if you choose life, then you must play the game of life.
Do not be ashamed of your nature, and what you are designed to do.
Complacency is our enemy, and should be rooted out.
Forwarded from Go to @OdeToPower3 (Artorias)
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Forwarded from BC Neanderthal Mindset
Just as the moon was fading
Amid her misty rings,
And every stocking was stuffed
With childhood’s precious things,
Old Kriss Kringle looked around,
And saw on the elm-tree bough,
High hung, an oriole’s nest,
Lonely and empty now.
“Quite a stocking,” he laughed,
“Hung up there on a tree!
I didn’t suppose the birds
Expected a present from me!”
Then old Kriss Kringle, who loves
A joke as well as the best,
Dropped a handful of snowflakes
Into the oriole’s empty nest.
-Kriss Kringle
By Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Amid her misty rings,
And every stocking was stuffed
With childhood’s precious things,
Old Kriss Kringle looked around,
And saw on the elm-tree bough,
High hung, an oriole’s nest,
Lonely and empty now.
“Quite a stocking,” he laughed,
“Hung up there on a tree!
I didn’t suppose the birds
Expected a present from me!”
Then old Kriss Kringle, who loves
A joke as well as the best,
Dropped a handful of snowflakes
Into the oriole’s empty nest.
-Kriss Kringle
By Thomas Bailey Aldrich
⚡1
Forwarded from 𝔗𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔖𝔬𝔲𝔩
The Catena Aurea, by Thomas Aquinas, includes the words of Rabanus on man's sin nature—
"It is not without cause that he speaks of them as dwelling among the tombs; for what else are the bodies of the faithless but sepulchres of the dead... in which the word of God dwells not, but there is enclosed the soul dead in sins. He says, “So that no man might pass through that way,” because before the coming of the Savior the Gentile world was inaccessible Or, by the two, understand both Jews and Gentiles, who did not abide in the house, that is, did not rest in their conscience. But they abode in tombs, that is, delighted themselves in dead works, and suffered no man to pass by the way of faith, which way the Jews obstructed."
"It is not without cause that he speaks of them as dwelling among the tombs; for what else are the bodies of the faithless but sepulchres of the dead... in which the word of God dwells not, but there is enclosed the soul dead in sins. He says, “So that no man might pass through that way,” because before the coming of the Savior the Gentile world was inaccessible Or, by the two, understand both Jews and Gentiles, who did not abide in the house, that is, did not rest in their conscience. But they abode in tombs, that is, delighted themselves in dead works, and suffered no man to pass by the way of faith, which way the Jews obstructed."
What if we just literally *shut it all down* and continued on without any technology.
Do you think that our bodys would know the truth?
Would we would find the path to each other?
Lets try it out, my life have been only to meet you.
So, tell me please and I will go.
Where, when?
What do you choose?
Do you think that our bodys would know the truth?
Would we would find the path to each other?
Lets try it out, my life have been only to meet you.
So, tell me please and I will go.
Where, when?
What do you choose?
Forwarded from Diary of an Underground Ronin
"To lose oneself completely in these distant times, one must be a poet - or a painter - on a late summer day in the south, and a glass of sunny wine in one's head. Then you see these millennia before you, in the middle of a landscape like a fairy tale. If you only ponder them at your desk and strain your poor logic, the glow of these early times will never shine on you."
— Spengler
— Spengler