Bitterness and pain,
I could take them fain,
if with me you remain,
we could both be insane

👉🏼👈🏼

„man muss noch Chaos in sich haben, um einen tanzenden Stern gebären zu können.“

Ich bin das Chaos,
ich bin der tanzende Stern.
Ich bin Dionysos,
der Gott, der Chaos gern
stiftet; der Gott der Liebe,
und der Gott des Wein… –

Du bist die Göttin der Schönheit;
dich anzubeten – das ist meine
einzige Pflicht und Schuldigkeit.
Du bist auch die Göttin der Liebe,
voller göttlicher Vollkommenheit,
in die ich mich zutiefst verliebe…

– Ich bin in dich verliebt,
und mache dich zu mein'!

I am the chaos,
I am the dancing star.
I am Dionysos,
the chaos-creator;
I am the god of eros,
and the god of wine –

You are the goddess of beauty;
to worship you – that is now
mine dearest and only duty.
You are the goddess of love,
full of perfection and divinity,
with whom I'm falling in love

– of you am I amorous,
and I'll make you mine!

You are my intoxicant,
the only poison
that I do want
and can get high on...

« (der) Rausch = intoxication; (das) Gift = poison; (das) Rauschgift = intoxicant/drug; berauschen = (to) intoxicate »
(the last line would more accurately be rendered as "and that intoxicates me")

The individual cannot bargain with the State. The State recognizes no coinage but power: and it issues the coins itself.

— Ursula K. Le Guin,
The Dispossessed

The daughter of heaven & hell
in my heart do you dwell
in your love I so deeply fell
forever under your spell 🥰

„Der beklemmendste Spuk ist der Mensch.“

„Wer für den Menschen schwärmt, der lässt, soweit jene Schwärmerei sich erstreckt, die Personen außer Acht und schwimmt in einem idealen, heiligen Interesse. Der Mensch ist ja keine Person, sondern ein Ideal, ein Spuk.“

„Ein ander Ding ist der Krieg. Ich bin meiner Art nach kriegerisch. Angreifen gehört zu meinen Instinkten.“

WAR AND WARRIORS.

By our best enemies we do not want to be spared, nor by those either whom we love from the very heart. So let me tell you the truth!

My brethren in war! I love you from the very heart. I am, and was ever, your counterpart. And I am also your best enemy. So let me tell you the truth!

I know the hatred and envy of your hearts. Ye are not great enough not to know of hatred and envy. Then be great enough not to be ashamed of them!

And if ye cannot be saints of knowledge, then, I pray you, be at least its warriors. They are the companions and forerunners of such saintship.

I see many soldiers; could I but see many warriors! “Uniform” one calleth what they wear; may it not be uniform what they therewith hide!

Ye shall be those whose eyes ever seek for an enemy—for your enemy. And with some of you there is hatred at first sight.

Your enemy shall ye seek; your war shall ye wage, and for the sake of your thoughts! And if your thoughts succumb, your uprightness shall still shout triumph thereby!

Ye shall love peace as a means to new wars—and the short peace more than the long.

You I advise not to work, but to fight. You I advise not to peace, but to victory. Let your work be a fight, let your peace be a victory!

One can only be silent and sit peacefully when one hath arrow and bow; otherwise one prateth and quarrelleth. Let your peace be a victory!

Ye say it is the good cause which halloweth even war? I say unto you: it is the good war which halloweth every cause.

War and courage have done more great things than charity. Not your sympathy, but your bravery hath hitherto saved the victims.

“What is good?” ye ask. To be brave is good. Let the little girls say: “To be good is what is pretty, and at the same time touching.”

They call you heartless: but your heart is true, and I love the bashfulness of your good-will. Ye are ashamed of your flow, and others are ashamed of their ebb.

Ye are ugly? Well then, my brethren, take the sublime about you, the mantle of the ugly!

And when your soul becometh great, then doth it become haughty, and in your sublimity there is wickedness. I know you.

In wickedness the haughty man and the weakling meet. But they misunderstand one another. I know you.

— Friedrich Nietzsche,
Thus Spake Zarathustra (chapter 10)

Ich sehe viel Soldaten: möchte ich viel Kriegsmänner sehen! „Ein-form“ nennt man’s, was sie tragen: möge es nicht Ein-form sein, was sie damit verstecken!

I see many soldiers; could I but see many warriors! “Uniform” one calleth what they wear; may it not be uniform what they therewith hide!

— Friedrich Nietzsche

I am an individualist because I am an anarchist; and I am an anarchist because I am a nihilist. But I also understand nihilism in my own way…

I don’t care whether it is Nordic or Oriental, nor whether or not it has a historical, political, practical tradition, or a theoretical, philosophical, spiritual, intellectual one. I call myself a nihilist because I know that nihilism means negation.

Negation of every society, of every cult, of every rule and of every religion. But I don’t yearn for Nirvana, any more than I long for Schopenhauer’s desperate and powerless pessimism, which is a worse thing than the violent renunciation of life itself. Mine is an enthusiastic and dionysian pessimism, like a flame that sets my vital exuberance ablaze, that mocks at any theoretical, scientific, or moral prison.

And if I call myself an individualist anarchist, an iconoclast, and a nihilist, it is precisely because I believe that in these adjectives there is the highest and most complete expression of my willful and reckless individuality that, like an overflowing river, wants to expand, impetuously sweeping away dikes and hedges, until it crashes into a granite boulder, shattering and breaking up in its turn. I do not renounce life. I exalt and sing it.

— Renzo Novatore,
I Am Also a Nihilist (I)

Life—for me—is neither good nor bad, neither a theory nor an idea. Life is a reality, and the reality of life is war. For one who is a born warrior, life is a fountain of joy, for others it is only a fountain of humiliation and sorrow. I no longer demand carefree joy from life. It couldn’t give it to me, and I would no longer know what to do with it now that my adolescence is past…

Instead I demand that it give me the perverse joy of battle that gives me the sorrowful spasms of defeat and the voluptuous thrills of victory.

Defeated in the mud or victorious in the sun, I sing life and I love it!

There is no rest for my rebel spirit except in war, just as there is no greater happiness for my vagabond, negating mind than the uninhibited affirmation of my capacity to life and to rejoice. My every defeat serves me only as symphonic prelude to a new victory.

— Renzo Novatore,
I Am Also a Nihilist (III)

The revolt of the free one against sorrow is only the intimate, passionate desire for a more intense and greater joy. But the greatest joy can only show itself to him in the mirror of the deepest sorrow, merging with it later in a vast barbaric embrace. And from this vast and fruitful embrace the higher smile of the strong one springs, as, in the midst of conflict, he sings the most thundering hymn to life.

A hymn woven from contempt and scorn, from will and might. A hymn that vibrates and throbs in the light of the sun as it shines on tombs, a hymn that revives the nothing and fills it with sound.

— Renzo Novatore,
I Am Also a Nihilist (V)