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Started by Manta Obscura, November 11, 2008, 07:24:21 PM

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Manta Obscura

From The Good Reverand Roger in "A Clarification":

Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on February 23, 2007, 06:56:33 AM
Apparently, at least one or two of you have misunderstood everything I've tried
to say for the last few years.  You've missed the point, so I guess I'm gonna
have to explain my position in small words.  Tell me if I'm typing this too fast
for you.

Look, when I bitched about the republic being dead, and freedom being a dying
art, I wasn't telling you to ACCEPT these hideous truths!  I wasn't telling you
to give up, and roll into a fetal ball in the corner!  Goddammit, you'd BETTER
holler when the rock hits you, because when you're dead, you'll shut up like
hell!


And when I wrote "or kill me", just what the fuck did you think I was trying to
say?  Well, let me tell you one last hideous truth...there IS freedom, but
nobody is going to give it to you.  Not your rich parents. Not your
"government" (har har!).  Your military isn't fighting for your freedom
(and if you think they are, boy do I have a real estate deal for you!).

No, you'll just have to take it for yourself, just like those asstards back in the 18th century.  And if they try to stop you, you have to kick them in the jimmy.  And you'll have to kick them until they let you have your freedom, or until they kill you.  And until they do, you'd better live a life WORTHY of a free person!  Don't just eat that cheeseburger, eat the HELL out of it! Go nuts!  Kick shit over, have a blast, and enjoy what little time you get before they bring the hammer down on you!

Shit, do you think they're gonna let me get away with MY shit forever?  They've
already tried to lock me up twice, and three times is a charm.  No, one day I'll
disappear...I'll just stop showing up, and you'll wonder why for a little while,
and then you'll get back to bickering about music, etc, and I'll fade from your
memory.  Just another foul-mouthed thug from the Southwest, who tried to bring
back the Wild West and failed.

Until the day they come for YOU.  Oh, and they WILL.  Maybe not Bush and his
crew...they're on their last legs.  But maybe Hillary and HER crew...you ARE a disruptive bunch, and you'll never make it on Oprah.  So maybe you'll be shunted off to a re-education camp in New Hampshire, where you'll be beaten like a rat every day, for your own good.

And on THAT day, friends, you'll wish you'd listened.  You'll wish you'd grabbed
that ephemeral thing we call "freedom" by the neck and choked the shit out of
it.  You'll wish you realized earlier what you stood to lose.  Well, at first. 
In a month or so, you'll start responding to the therapy, and you'll wonder what
all the fuss was about.  The sun will shine down onto your grey pajamas, and
even the mud of the camp recreation area will look warm and inviting.  You'll
realize that They really do love you, even when you're bad.  And you love them. 
You love Big Brother.

Bang.

Or Kill Me.

Everything I wish for myself, I wish for you also.

AFK

I recommend purusing LHX's stuff.  Also, some of the older threads in Think For Yourself, Schmuck.  Start with the last page and work your way forward, there was tons of good stuff in the infancy of that subforum.  That was a very fertile time of ideas.  Also, you should go through my Sit-Down Comedy thread or the pun thread.  While 95% of the stuff I come up with is pretty awful, every once in awhile I hit on a gem. 
Cynicism is a blank check for failure.

Manta Obscura

From a post by TGRR on September 8, 2008, wherein he explains the importance of media mindfucking:

Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on September 09, 2008, 12:30:50 AM
It has been said by wiser men than me that evil has its own attraction.  Any time there is chaos or economic failure, the idea of strong organization becomes very palatable to domesticated primates...So they turn to things like police forces wearing military-type uniforms, etc.  There's a certain magic in fascism, that appeals to people when times are rotten.

A good example is the ICE branch of the US Customs office, which is now part of DHS instead of the Treasury Department.  ICE officers do not wear the police-style uniforms worn by other federal policing agencies, but rather the "digital camoflage" uniforms worn by the US Army.  There is, of course, no need for this uniform other than to give an intimidating, paramilitary appearance to the officers.

Germany did that, once.

Another thing people tend to do when times get rocky is to view dissenters as treasonous or at least "obstructionist".  The press, if not completely on board with the political leadership, is castigated and - if possible - silenced.

An example of this is today's removal of Keith Olbermann from the RNC convention coverage, as he objected to the airing of a 911-themed film shown at the convention.  To show part of such a clip is simply reporting...but to show the entire clip is essentially unpaid advertising for the party in question on the part of the network.  To show an entire speech is also responsible journalism, but an entire, packaged propaganda piece?

That goes beyond journalism, into "mouthpiece" territory.  And a captive and/or sycophantic media is an abomination...Indeed, our "free press" is merely an unofficial branch of the so-called "government".

I don't know about you, but it's time to start fucking with the media.

Or kill me.

Everything I wish for myself, I wish for you also.

Manta Obscura

Quote from: Rev. What's-His-Name? on November 17, 2008, 04:47:27 PM
I recommend purusing LHX's stuff.  Also, some of the older threads in Think For Yourself, Schmuck.  Start with the last page and work your way forward, there was tons of good stuff in the infancy of that subforum.  That was a very fertile time of ideas.  Also, you should go through my Sit-Down Comedy thread or the pun thread.  While 95% of the stuff I come up with is pretty awful, every once in awhile I hit on a gem. 

Will do, Rev. Also, feel free to submit anything that you find, as well, because these forums are a large terrain for just one man to traverse.

Also, to anyone who posts: To make locating the context of a post easier, please try to list the forum or thread in which an entry was posted. I've forgotten on some of the things that I've posted here but, as a general rule of thumb, it might help out once we start dragging up a lot of really old posts, or posts which are found in the middle of conversations.
Everything I wish for myself, I wish for you also.

Manta Obscura

From DJRubberducky in the thread "Architecture":

Quote from: DJRubberducky on December 08, 2006, 09:44:41 PM
More than anything, I'm trying to sort out my thoughts on the matter, not really inflict them on anybody.  But you're welcome to discuss, as that may help the sorting process.

From what I can tell, the exterior walls of the BIP are put in place by our existence as humans.  As has been said before in other treatises, our perceptions are limited by the relatively narrow ranges of our physical senses, and by the fact that our brains can only process so much information at a given time.  Even when we try to expand our sensory ranges by building and using mechanical devices, it's very difficult for us to observe both those expanded ranges and our "natural" ranges - we have to focus our attention on what's under the microscope and can't necessarily notice the fire that just caught in the far corner of the laboratory.  This is why we can never fully escape the Black Iron Prison - we either don't have the sensory perception, or we don't have the mental processing power, and if we try to expand both at once, we end up frying our brains with data overload.  None can look upon the face of God and live.

However, the BIP is chock full of interior walls, and we can smash those to our heart's content because we're the ones who put them there, or who allowed them to be put there (which is almost the same thing).  Smashing those walls doesn't change the fact that we're in prison, but it gives us a little more wiggle room.

One of the troubles in wall-smashing, though, is that many of us knock down a wall, then take those bricks and use them to build a new and different wall.  I actually had that revelation back in high school, but only in a very specific sense - I was complaining about how so many guitarists wanted to sound like Jimi Hendrix because "he was so innovative".  That idea just totally boggled my mind.  They admired Hendrix for being innovative, so they were going to very diligently copy everything he had already done, and think they were somehow better for it.  Hendrix had smashed a wall, and these kids were very meticulously picking up the bricks and building a new one - but it was okay because this was a Hendrix wall and therefore cooler than the other walls out there!

On the other hand, is it bad to rebuild walls in new and different places?  If you knock down too many walls without rebuilding at least one or two somewhere else, do you risk collapsing the ceiling on yourself and going completely mad?  (If you want to argue whether or not going mad is a bad thing, let's do that elsewhere.)  And is it somehow less offensive to live with walls that you have built, since you chose to have them there and you will probably remain aware of their existence?  I tend to think it is - if a girl who grows up reaping all the benefits of gender equality who *chooses* to be a stay-at-home mom when she grows up is IMO better off than a girl who grew up never knowing that she didn't have to do that if she didn't want to.
Everything I wish for myself, I wish for you also.

Payne

Quote from: Manta Obscura on November 17, 2008, 04:54:07 PM
Also, to anyone who posts: To make locating the context of a post easier, please try to list the forum or thread in which an entry was posted. I've forgotten on some of the things that I've posted here but, as a general rule of thumb, it might help out once we start dragging up a lot of really old posts, or posts which are found in the middle of conversations.

You can click on the link above quotes and it'll take you directly to the relevant thread.

Just sayin'.

Manta Obscura

Quote from: Payne on November 17, 2008, 04:59:48 PM
Quote from: Manta Obscura on November 17, 2008, 04:54:07 PM
Also, to anyone who posts: To make locating the context of a post easier, please try to list the forum or thread in which an entry was posted. I've forgotten on some of the things that I've posted here but, as a general rule of thumb, it might help out once we start dragging up a lot of really old posts, or posts which are found in the middle of conversations.

You can click on the link above quotes and it'll take you directly to the relevant thread.

Just sayin'.

Me = open mouth, insert foot.

Thanks, Payne.
Everything I wish for myself, I wish for you also.

Manta Obscura

From LHX, in his thread "Making Occult Studies More Accessible":

Quote from: LHX on December 20, 2006, 08:57:26 PM
It seems that one of the biggest stumbling blocks to making progress in occult studies is the tradition of mystery (or dare i say mahdjgickque?).

We have all but dismantled that aspect of the occult here.

What is the key understanding to accomplishing this?

Does it need to be understood that the occult words and symbols came after the things that they are describing? That they are a part of a process rather than the cause of a process?

Does it need to be understood that a card pulled from the tarot sheds insight on a situation rather than [i/predicting a concrete outcome[/i] of a specific situation?

Ive been taking a look at these occult systems lately - and it seems that they all aim in some way to re-create the universe we are living in - they allow you to take a 3rd person perspective on the situation that you are actually participating in

and the resulting insight is the thing that seems magical, but in reality is just a very useful insight


some people genuinely try to make progress in studying the occult, but there arent many resources available that deliver the raw goods (not many that i know of at least)


there are a lot of people making a lot of money by writing books and confusing their readers


excuse me - my venus is ascending retrograde (how embarrassing!)
Everything I wish for myself, I wish for you also.

Manta Obscura

Another self-whoring. This is something that I wrote a few weeks ago while waiting for my sugar cookies to finish baking. I just managed to get it typed up yesterday:

Cookies, and why they are yummy
by M.O.


From the Book of Saccharus, Ch. 1, v.1-9:

I. "In the beginning, after all the boring parts of Creation had been created, God created cookies.  Of many different varieties He created them.  And lo, he sorted them according to their kind, and, verily, according to their kind they were sorted.  The 7th and 1/2lf day.

II. "After this had come to pass, God looketh down upon His other non-cookie Creations, and saweth that not one cookie was among them, and it was not good.  And so God sayeth, 'Let there be cookies,' and it was so.  The cookies, once province solely of heaven, sprangeth from humans' ovens according to their different varieties, and lo they became sorted again according to their kind and, verily, according to their kind they were sorted.

III. "And behold, at this time the Evil One walketh the earth. Havoc and misdeed guideth his steps.  He saweth the cookies, and saweth that they were good, and spake, 'Verily I say, these cookies are good.  I lament.'  And he saweth the goodness of the cookies, and he lamented."

IV. "But that Evil One was crafty, and hath soon devised a plan that should bringeth wrath and misfortune upon cookies, and upon all that eateth them.  For he hath maketh the enemies of all cookies everywhere, and he saweth the villainy of this deed.  Seeing the villainy of this deed, he sayeth, 'Verily, this deed is villanous,' and so it was.  For the Evil One hath created 'Diet Programs,' which are to this day plagues upon the house of cookies, and it is the house of cookies which they plagueth."

V. "In triumph the Evil One retreateth, and nay, all seemed lost.  But God, as He looketh down upon his pitiful people, who hath now dieted away all cookies, took pity on us, and sayeth, 'Verily, this is not good,' and it was not." 

VI. "Thus, God spake, saying, 'Thou shalt not diet excessively,' and lo, it was so."

VII. "And then God spake again, and He sayeth, 'Thou shalt not worry about what others think of thou,' and lo, it was so."

VIII. "At last God spake His final words, and He sayeth, 'Thou shalt enjoyeth to do what thou enjoyeth to do,' and lo, it was so."

IX. And thus, the Evil One thwarted, God retreateth back unto the heavens, leaving His spirit behind in the hearts of men and cookies forever.  Amen."

Everything I wish for myself, I wish for you also.

LMNO

Thus, I whore myself:

Quote from: Drunkard LMNO on June 22, 2006, 05:59:48 PM
THE VISION OF THE HOLY BOILERMAKER.

I saw a sight, O my children.

And in this sight was our Goddess, Eris.

And she was drunk.

Again.

And lo, she opened her left hand; and from this hand fell the Shot Glass of Destruction, and Disorder.

And all the things that Were became the things that Were Not:

The Forest became the Fire.

The House became the Rubble.

The Flesh became Meat.

And lo, did I weep, for the loss of all that Was.

And Eris did open her right hand, and from this hand fell the Pint Glass of Creation, and Order.

And the things that Were Not became the things that Were:

The Seed became the Forest.

The Stone became the House.

The Food became the Flesh.

And lo, did I rejoice, for the gain of all that Was.

And Eris did smack me on the back of the head; and I saw a sight, where the Shot became the Pint, and the Pint became the Shot, and I was confused.

In fright, I cried out: , "O Eris! What is this Terrible Vision, where Creation and Destruction are interchangeable; where Order and Disorder are naught but games!,"

And lo, did Eris smile; and did retrieve the Shot and the Pint; and filled the Shot with Whiskey; and the Pint with Stout; and did drop the Shot in the Pint, and drank them together.


And thus, I was enlightened.

AFK

In case you need some marginalia:

Quote from: Rev. What's-His-Name? on July 12, 2007, 07:37:37 PM
Did you hear the one about the deaf Discordian?
Whut?

Quote from: Rev. What's-His-Name? on July 12, 2007, 07:40:58 PM
Yeah, that one was pretty dumb.
Which, of course, goes without saying. 

Cynicism is a blank check for failure.

Bebek Sincap Ratatosk

Quote from: Ratatosk on June 07, 2007, 06:53:42 PM
"Hold your breath, make a wish, count to three...
Come with me and you'll be in a world of Pure Imagination.
Take a look and you'll see into your Imagination.
We'll begin with a spin, traveling in the world of my creation.
What we'll see will defy explanation.
If you want to view Paradise, simply look around and view it.
Anything you want to do is, want to change the world, there's nothing to it..."
- Willy Wonka

At some point in the quite distant past of my early childhood, I saw Willy Wonka. I don't remember watching the movie the first time, but I do remember that there was a defining moment in my consciousness that day. It was the scene right before Agustus Gloop fell into the Chocolate River and became a giant chocolaty spit wad. Willy Wonka had opened the door to the Chocolate Room. Everyone walked into a world that couldn't exist. The colors were too vibrant to be simple reflections of light frequencies, everything was edible and the power of a single man's imagination had changed reality. I don't know when it happened, but I will never forget the elation I felt as Gene Wilder sang the above words. Every one of them hit me like an arrow. I wanted to live in a world of Pure Imagination. I didn't want to live in the serious world around me. The world of school and the factory where my dad worked was far too much like Charley's hometown, all the color and cheer had washed away. People were serious and concerned about serious things....

Of course, being whatever age I was, my analytical skills weren't sophisticated enough to appreciate this. All I can remember is wishing that I was in the Chocolate Room. Some number of years passed between that memory and the first time I can recall actually watching "Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory". The feeling I got when I heard the opening bars to "Marriage of Figaro" played on Wonka's locked door was a complete shift into that world of fantasy again.

I think that it was probably the first time I recall touching what Dr. Timothy Leary calls the 5th Circuit of Consciousness. That point where you can simply comprehend more of what is going on... at least maybe more of what you perceive to be going on. Colors do indeed appear brighter and the line between your reality and everyone else's becomes a shade less defined. Wilson and Leary both wrote that this level of consciousness was the 'next' evolution of the human experience. Circuits that are ready to use, just waiting to be plugged in. I'm not sure that they were right, but it makes a useful metaphor if nothing else.

I have only in the past few years been able to identify the place my imagination gets me to with the 5th level of Consciousness. I did this with specific neurotransmitters as well as other ways that have been in use for 4000 years to activate the fifth-brain. The ways that have been developed have been almost exclusively the domain of the shaman, the occultist and the alchemist. I have come to believe that the 'magic' associated with most occult figures may not a supernatural magic, but simply the engaging of higher circuits of consciousness. Perhaps that's all that Willy Wonka was, someone who had figured out how to engage all eight circuits of consciousness permanently. His hallucinations manifested in other people's reality model.

Marijuana has been proven to be a powerful neurotransmitter for the fifth-circuit. So has Tantra Magick, Sensory Deprivation and Free Fall. All of these are known to cause hallucinations on some level as well. Are hallucinations simply the beginning of reality-shaping? Is it simply your imagination beginning to affect the world around you? Wilson and Leary both connected fifth-circuit engagement with the separation of the nervous system from terrestrial ties. Astronauts describe feelings very similar to 'being high' when in the freefall of space (perhaps that is why the earth looks different to an individual experiencing it from space than any picture or virtual display can ever convey... they experience earth on a slightly different level of consciousness.

So maybe that's what Willy Wonka is actually trying to do, evolve consciousness to the next level (metaphorically). Look at the extreme warping he does to the reality of the contestant winners (and their greyfaced hunchbrained parents). Every one of them is placed in a situation that forces them to accept that they know less of reality than they think (or at least they know less of Wonka's reality). The book takes this idea a step further. At the end of the book we learn that all the children made it through their ordeal and were now much better for it. They all had improved in a number of ways. Wonka's mindfucks had proven beneficial for each of them.

Even Grandpa Joe and Charley need to get high (on fizzy lifting drink) before they can go to the next level of consciousness where they get everything they always wanted. Charlie and Grandpa Joe finally become fully aware of consciousness at a Wonka-level in the great glass elevator. Not only flying high (stoned off their sweet-tooth), but in a vehicle that allows them, with the touch of a button to go anywhere and anyway they desire. They simply push a button and wooosh! The GGE appears as the representation of Ultimate Freedom from Rules and Restrictions, to fully explore their Three Dimensional Universe.

They found a reality with no more rules to hold them back.

After all, that's what Wonka promised when he sang, "There is no Life I know to compare to Pure Imagination, living there you'll be free, if you truly wish to be."

I hereby declare Willy Wonka a Non-Prophet of Eris.

Quote from: Ratatosk on June 07, 2007, 09:55:02 PM
Inspired By a Post on "Convert Me"

"I want a religion that likes what I like,
and thinks how I think,
when I pray late at night.
I want a religion that doesn't have rules,
unless it's about those
whom I think are fools."

"I'll put my faith in a Custom Made God,
I'll 'have it my way',
though some think it odd.
I'll find the Truth lit by my own damned light,
I'll believe in a God
who thinks that I'm right!"

And so goes the sound of the monkeys that talk,
'tis barely better than the sheep that all walk,
down pews to the alter to get saved again,
while they "love", curse and damn their poor fellow men.

But it misses the key, it misses the gate,
it misses the thought which all love to hate.
For it's not all that logical,
nor soundeth it wise.
But you are reading this poem
through your God's eyes.

Who created what you see, what you hear, what you smell?
Who created your thoughts or the words that you tell?
Who makes the grass green? Who makes the sky blue?
Who translates the data?

Your God... (which is You).


Ratatosk, Squirrel of Discord
Chatterer of the Words of Eris
Muncher of The ChaoAcorn
POEE of the Great Googlie Mooglie Cabal

Quote from: Ratatosk on June 07, 2007, 09:47:21 PM
I wonder what she'd say,
if she happened by today,
and saw us in our rituals of life?
Would she think we're doing well,
in our own chaotic hell,
or would she decide to add a little strife?

There's Erisians on the net,
who are trying, you can bet,
to spread those words of chaos writ by Mal.
But Discordians, you know,
might aim an extra blow,
at their brothers and their sisters of the Chao.

I have seen the common spat,
regarding this and that,
and who and what and where and why and how.
And in the orgy of the fray,
we oft forget our way,
and might spill our bitter tea upon our towel.

So I wonder what she'd say,
if she happened through this way,
and stopped to see the madness we had wrought.
I think she'd laugh the most,
and head back home to boast,
about the way in which her Children fought.


Ratatosk, Squirrel of Discord
Chatterer of the Words of Eris
Muncher of the ChaoAcorn
POEE of The Great Googlie Mooglie Cabal

And http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php?topic=12969.msg410442#msg410442

:lulz:
- I don't see race. I just see cars going around in a circle.

"Back in my day, crazy meant something. Now everyone is crazy" - Charlie Manson

Bebek Sincap Ratatosk

Oh and:

Quote from: Ratatosk on July 19, 2007, 07:17:01 PM
ROUGH DRAFT 1

The Spirit of She What Done It All filled me and gave unto me the power of seeing that which is, but is not and might be (as it doesn't matter anyway).

I stood upon a dark shore, where no wind blew and no bird called, it was the Place of Waiting. In the sand, for all eternity, were writings;
"Leary Was Here"
"I came, I saw, I got Fucked Up.
  Love, Gonzo"
"I didn't expect this. - RAW"
"Man, am I glad that's over - Omar"

and many more. The spirit of Eris moved me so that I understood; This was the Beach of the Dead, the sandy shores of That Which Is To Come After. The writings in the sand were from all those who came home from the very wild circus that is Life. And across the water I saw coming towards me a canoe. As it approached, I saw what appeared to be a tall man paddling.

"Oh Son of the Great Tribes" I hailed, "Are you that which shall carry me to the afterlife?"

And a deep voice came from the man saying "Duuuude, just chill, I'll be there in a flasssh".

So I chilled by the edge of the lapping waves and entertained myself by reading more of the epitaths.

"I never should have listened to Norton. - Samuel Clemens"
"Twain is gonna get the shock of his afterlife. - Emperor Norton I

I was so absorbed in my ghoulish task that I didn't notice the canoe come close to shore and land with a soft bump upon the sand. The man approached me and spoke, and lo' I was startled. "Man, you should hit this." it spoke, handing me a small roach. He didn't really seem to be a man upon closer examination. In fact, he was no man at all... the pointed ears, the dark muzzle... the muscular arms and legs... "Anubis!" I nearly shouted in recognition, "I had no idea that you were the guide for this afterlife."

The Dog twitched slightly and I caught the faint aroma of patchouli. "Whoa dude, don't be throwing around my old slave name... that is sooo not me anymore. Those Egyptians were such a drag man, hell they kept me on even after people stopped showing up. You know what a pain it is to only be called upon to direct the occasional Neo-Pagan to the afterlife? It's so boring. And they never get anything right anyway... One showed up looking for wings and the Elysium fields and me. I mean how confused can one person be?! No man, that was a bum trip."

"So what ..." I began to ask.

"You mean, why here? Well, like, I put my resume out there with a couple hoopy headhunters I knew. They used to be pretty decent suppliers before the job went lame. Anyway, these cats called me up and said that a sweet position was opening up here and I figured, you know, what the hell... might as well apply for the job." He paused and took a hit from, what appeared to be a new joint. "Yep," he continued blowing out a purple haze,"things are much more groovy here. All the cats and kittens which show up are either excited to be here, or at the very least awfully curious about what was going on. At the old job, there were a few customers that weren't too bad, but most of them either thought that they were Gods, or just cried and whined and begged me to take them home. It's a helluva lot better here... and the boss is a lot more lenient." He hit the j again and passed it to me. "Hell, she gave me this before I left to come over here."

"So," I ventured, hoping to get a question in "who do you work for?"

He smiled and showed me his regalia. Instead of the skirt, he wore a  colorful dashiki and his ankh had been traded in for a Five Fingered Hand. A short goatee sprouted from the bottom of his muzzle. "Ah," I said in recognition, "I should have guessed. So then what shall I call you now that you're free?"

He smiled, ushered me to his craft and pushed off from shore, "You can call me by my Free Name now that I am a God here in the realms of Chaos." He straightened his posture threw his head back and proclaimed in a deific voice "I am the Discordant of the Dead Chaoates, the Keeper of the Sacred Souls, the Captain of the Canoe of Chaos. I am Ca' Nu' Bis!"

And then I awoke and realized that I still had to finish three reports before I could leave the office.

- I don't see race. I just see cars going around in a circle.

"Back in my day, crazy meant something. Now everyone is crazy" - Charlie Manson

AFK

Quote from: Rev. What's-His-Name? on September 28, 2007, 04:05:46 PM
Finding Freedom While Suffocating

We have to eat, we need a place to sleep, we need to clothe our bodies, and we need to take care of others in our familial units (pets included).  It is vital to a certain aspect of our survival.

But then there's the other part of survival.  The part that happens in the headspace. 

Life happens and we happen with it.  Events may dictate that we end up in a job or occupation that wasn't necessarily in our Top 5 when we were in 2nd grade.  While this situation may be less than ideal, it doesn't have to be a death, or life in prison sentence. 

The key is to attain, retain, and maintain that freedom in the head.  This can be difficult though while life is happening around you.  You are forced, by your boss, to do certain things to maintain employment, that may work against how you feel and think inside.  Maybe you need to start making cold calls, when you hate getting cold calls yourself.  Maybe you need to start declining more applicants, while you hate it when it happens to you.  But if you don't do these things, life will happen much more harshly when the income dries up.

So, much like many things in this world, it seems like being able to balance is key.  If you can walk the tightrope and keep your wits about you, you'll make it to the other end.  Your aide will be your balancing beam.  Maybe it's writing poetry/prose.  Maybe it's creating music.  Maybe it's sticking your hands in dirt in your back yard.  Maybe it's scaling the nearby rocky cliff.  Whatever it is, you need to keep it at hand.  To keep that headspace open and free.

Because suffocation is simply where you stopped breathing. 
Cynicism is a blank check for failure.

Elder Iptuous

So this has become a 'submissions to crams new Discorian lit magazine' thread?
i should dig through my posts and see if i said anything that doesn't count as a net negative ....