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exercises in being according to an existential hedonist

god

ex·is·ten·tial·ism
ˌeɡzəˈsten(t)SHəˌlizəm/
noun
  1. god is the Individual and now.
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Filed under: existential, thinking, , , , , , ,

Real Perception

What is “reality” when the physical energy one experiences if addressed with the words “I love you”, have solely to do with the individual connotation and experience with love and little to do with the one speaking out the words?

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Hedonism is the best Existentialism

A succulent Apple Pie / Cupcakes Cafe / Leica D-Lux 4

A succulent Apple Pie / Cupcakes Cafe / Leica D-Lux 4

Filed under: eating, existential, hedonism, , , , , ,

Lost within your Tongue

I experience it often enough threefold. In translation much could get lost. It might occur due to the lack of words or to the lack of proper translation. This does not necessarily mean that something lost must be a loss. At times it will provoke, inspire and bring about new creations. But I did observe a scene that seemed to me to be a loss in being lost – lost beings drinking coffee. It appeared to be the joint satisfaction in being bored.

Lost within one Tongue

The couple sat without much words to get lost with. I did not see his face during my observation, but she acted as if filled with the very least amount of excitement. Her eyes wondered about the room as if feeling misplaced, either waiting for something to happen or the opportunity to leave. It could have been resignation towards the apparent relationship as well.

At times we lose ourselves without leaving our very own realm of understanding. At times, once lost, we do not try to find ourselves again.

 

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Self-Portrait

Self-Portrait

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About the Architecture of Love (Part I)

I do not believe that love grows and develops in us. It does not develop thanks to our parents, nor thanks to the woman that comes into our life, nor because of the loving Grandmother. Love does not grow out of reactions and experience. Love is like air: always there.

We do not see the air, neither do we see love. We only see both in the reaction they cause on others whenever the reaction gets transported. Everything reacts to the existence of love and air.

If we do not feel accepted at home, we wait and search, for it is one of our natural tendencies, to desire to have those around us that respond to the signs of love we radiate. And so we search and trust that we will find others that interchange love signs with us, if there are none at home.

Love is an essential quality within our existence and independent of how the world around us might treat us when we are born into it, we search with nose, eyes, ears, skin and hands for something that will agree with the love in us. It might be hard to find it at times, but that seems to be irrelevant for us: we search.

That is perhaps the reason why so many jump, dive and fly in any possible direction, as soon and wherever they suspect or notice signs of what they consider to be love. I also do not think that there is a physical love. That bodily sensation – sex – is, next to the automatism coming from nature, an accompaniment to the soul’s love state, or an impulse, a necessity, very much independent from love. It is however our luck that again and again we meet individuals and are given the opportunity to experience sex with those that we also are willing to give sings of love to. It is also our luck that we might find very clear signs of loving coming from those to whom we fell physically attracted to and wish to take in physically as well.

Some are very sure that love is a feeling. Some are very shure that love is not a feeling.

Everything tells and shows me that it cannot be a feeling, but a perpetual, existential state.

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Filed under: drinking, eating, existential, repercussions, singing, thinking, , , , , , ,

Life (III) / Notes on the Life of Artificial Life

I want to be when I die
I wish to see the whole process.

If dying is indeed a loss,
I wish to see how much to lose I have,
how much to lose I am.

If dying is a gain,
I shall write again.

I recall this as being the very first thoughts I concentrated on – enough to write a composition of words about it – dealing with the process of dying. It seems as though there is no livelier process than to die – for those dying and for those looking onto those dying. Many who had the so called near death experience attest to this and observers of those dying, repeatedly watch close or refuse to look. Thus, which are better moments to be awake?

Some express, as wish of wishes, to die in their sleep. I strongly suspect that a key in life is elevation through knowledge. Thus, if I were to die, I wish to be wide awake through it.

If we thought of dying as just a phase within life and we could experience the dying process and subsequently, just days later, arise with a new experience of states and feelings, we would know less fright in life. If we were given concise instructions that, not reincarnation, but reinsoulation or reinconsciousness is available to us all and death were literally nonexistent, but rather we were submerged in an explosive and satisfying transition onto another state, what would there be to be afraid of?

I consider myself very lucky to have been in the same room at the same time with my father, as he inhaled for the last time, before a nurse pronounced his “passing”. There was no sadness, no joy. I was awake, observing, questioning through a myriad of phrases without question marks, inhaling with him, accepting, wondering, concluding, wanting. And still, after eleven Marches since that ante meridiem at 6:01, I do not see death.

In the last couple of weeks the dying have been screaming around me in body moves – nothing my ears hear. We often do interpret screaming as pain, but I have seen screaming moves which I cannot call pain. They are not very different to the screaming moves many of us know during overpowering ecstasy, especially if love uniquely unites us with the love of another, while body and spirit come together.

One of the screaming bodies I saw was that of a raccoon. A dog passing by, which usually barked by each confrontation with another animal in the park, did not bark. It gave a short look, then continued, quiet. The raccoon turned its head repeatedly, screaming – what a policeman and I kept calling agony, while we spoke. We waited more than an hour, until it ceased to move.

Raccoon

‘Juice’ from Raccoon

I saw a bird, fallen from a tree – so the appearance. The body screamed. Paused. Screamed. Stretched. Screamed and screamed, quiet to my ears. Two days later I returned and saw it again. No moves.

Newly a cat showed an expressive last move. It laid  near lines which clearly said they ought not be crossed. Another one looked on, dared to stride to the middle of the street, slowly, wondering, wanting, aware, solemnly. It stopped at the line and did not cross. The second cat – similar to the dog – knew, and knew what to do.

Cat looking at another Cat

Humans, like no other animal, have managed to combine life and death through unique levels of artificiality. Dogs, cats, squirrels, surely racoons and many other animals, have also their moments dedicated to play, which is often the temporary transformation of real life activities, into make-believe, into artificiality. Humans, however, take it beyond play. Two times now I have seen an older couple walking hand in hand around an artificial pond that has been categorized as a conservation spot for wild life. And there they walk, while carrying a stuffed dog.

Couple on artificial pond for conserved wild life, carrying a stuffed dog

We have now seen millions of Marches and Christianity has seen over 2000 of them, but we have yet to avoid a life without being afraid of it being too short, too long, too painful. We are still afraid that it means ‘to end’ and afraid of being awake. We believe in a truth and call it belief, based on which we die and kill for. We willingly asphyxiate with it. We have created what we call artificial life and artificial intelligence, but we continue to scream.

That classic “to be or not to be” might have helped starting this whole dilemma. Not even to move or not to move seems relevant, nor to scream or not to scream, nor to perceive or not to perceive. We do know, we call it life. Some are sure it must end. Some are sure it must not. Clear is our confusion, and we proceed with glorification, one of the most expressive forms of artificiality, often used in this transition process we die for. We glorify based on religions and cultures or through individually personified acts, like signs of friendship, like the hundreds dedicated to a store owner last month. The store was much to dirty for me to ever enter it, but after he was stabbed to death, days and nights saw customers and passersby glorifying him in notes and symbols, what is often called paying respects, the respect we like to see in the face of those that have died, much more than to the face of those alive.

‘paying respect’

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