Skip to main content


Showing posts from July, 2013

The Feast of the Magdalene


Opened windows, there is nothing to see. All is still yet I discern night's approach, my soul's sister. He has come for me. The Great Unseen. Why are silences longer than our laughter, our joys, our days? Slow, thick time creeps through my veins, not blood, not life-giving blood, no, but sorrow, death-like sorrow. Sadness for lives left unlived,  decisions left unmade. Silence for words I did not speak, understood by him who did not speak. Longing for him whom I lost. Loving him as a ghost of my memory. Loving him I remain.

The Fires of Change

Is it really possible to change from one to another, to be otherwise than oneself?

Initially and for the most part we remain as the beings that we are. Such is the strict necessity of the principle of individuation, that in order to be an I, I ridiculously have to remain the same without any chance or hope of becoming otherwise. For if I by any extent of the imagination think myself of being not myself, I will become all the more (as if I am not already so) lost in the kingdom of beings. To think my self as being another requires that I first give up what I almost rarely can possess, that is, a hold on myself, a self-knowledge, character; and we know not everybody has such self-determination and what we call a 'personality'. In a word, it seems a voluntary change is difficult because I may not even know what (or who) I shall change from. We are never fully transparent to ourselves. We drown in the seas of circumstances daily, unable to achieve everything we want or become who…