here, let's type some stuff

I won't act as we've seen, I'm not like
the person who did it, I saw
and won't dare to say "because I'm not like you"

that person is not you
he is not like you

I don't know he is a person

you are not like that
you are better

you aren't that person
you wouldn't do that

there is something unseen, I am certain

Money (poem)

Money

There is this funny number
that shows up in the inbox every week
a reminder from the bank
they want me to be responsible

it says how much I can use others
who would rather not be used

or maybe they would, but if it were me, they would not
they'd have something else better to do.

Money, I hate you, I need you, it seems
because I am confused
because we are confused

because I don't know what the other wants
or if I know, and maybe I do
(some days, not up to me, nor to you)
my heart won't admit it.

I think it's my heart, at least
and I don't know how to show what's true
to the other, the world, my heart
without being cruel

Just in Case (poem)

Not my proudest creation, but it belongs here.  Shared elsewhere first.  I wrote it for one person, but ended up writing it in a way that only G-d or someone close would connect all its parts to me.

This email was written as a result of reading this.  It was not sent.

Just in Case
February 23, 2016

I don't think you know

don't know if that's OK

better write this for you

maybe seen, maybe not

I want you to know

I wish I could say

Your kindness is true

whether meant, whether thought. 

:)

Truth is what's everywhere

You're in one place

when I feel underground

(such disgrace)

it's only a feeling.

Forgetting it sees

your kindness is here

guarding us in its place.

It spreads out its wings

and reaches

pulls up and up

till the grounds below slip

till it and me, we dance.

How to give this dance sound

how to make your words sing...?

I want you to hear it

I want it to ring

--

On bad days, and good ones too

I'm glad if I remember.

Hopefully, I thank the One who reminds me

(naturally or personally).

Hopefully, I also thank you

since you made the memory.

--

The fact you were here

after all this...

after madness and running away

and lost patience

and what could have been threats

after getting excited and pushing too hard

and forcing, using, the wrong hand

and maybe things worse than that 

-- I don't know -- you know --

still willing to say hello

every so often

still out loud to admit

we have something in common.

--

That is enough.

It lifts me up from the pit

and we fly to reach every place.

Even if you forget.

Even if you regret.

That is your kindness

still here, it's you

everywhere.

True.

--

The rest of the email:

(Every once in a very rare while, someone keeps me company on a day when I really know I don't deserve it.  Not just that I don't (that'd mean a much higher frequency) but that I also know I don't.  

It is impossible to know what it seemed like from the other side, but...those times have a special place in my heart.

This is for you, [name].)

The Colours of Heaven (poem)

A poem I wrote to share on MagicDuel, yesterday or the day before.


The Colours of Heaven


Shadows burst up from the ground
reds and blues show and vanish...

...the colors have lost their crown
they are not known, not now.

as dreams of spectrum die
as light grows less intense

my embarrassments unhide
and like the shadows, upward stretch

here, before my eyes,
where rest is not, not yet...

--

was it ever not a lie? No
But it's fact,

real even false,
real unknowing, unforgiven.

the shame is here

--

here in the shadow that moments past was a colored tree

here in this eye we call the earth
as real as you or me...

--

I don't see the tree, who could
Dark blue covers my world

I don't know the way, I should
here under my blanket curled...

...the way up through the window
where flow body's mental streams

belief allowed for life,
but my fact allows a dream

--

In a dream I was unclothed
couldn't see that while awake.

In the dream I finish robed
I hope that isn't a mistake.

--

I'll pretend it isn't real
I'll pretend that I'm a fake

I'll run and do what I will do
jump into the lonely lake

Because once I saw a map
and on the map there was an island

on the island was a path
and in the path my fact is silent

--

Swim till shadows burst aground
till colours show and vanish

till the day the heart is crowned
till the light my fact will banish

My Anger

Obviously not a good title, but the anger indeed tends to be there. It's just usually subtle :)

 The following are the stimuli to this post:

 1. Elad Nehorai tweeted: https://twitter.com/PopChassid/status/696450168032468993

 "Ever had an idea you REALLY wished someone would write about? That means you're supposed to write it."

 2. There exists a passage in Likutei Moharan describing how one kingdom descends into four evil ones. 

There exists a scene in MagicDuel, the Trial of Agony, where there are four trees, and a stump. Next to the stump is a skull. Hanging on the trees are three living, but tortured, humans.

3. In the story of "The Sophisticate and the Simpleton", in the end, the Sophisticate is in a quicksand pit, being tortured by the (Jewish) "Devil" and his assistants. He thinks they are human beings even as they exhibit inhuman qualities.

 "Fool! You still think these are human beings?" He requires special help to leave the situation he finds himself in.

4. https://www.reddit.com/r/DebateReligion/comments/44i197/an_argument_for_strong_atheism/


 I know the refutation here, that no "creation" as defined can be true, and in fact the "creation" we are in is not true. If "create" is replaced with "exist", we have the exact framework for which Mur writes "To understand God, you must understand he doesn't exist".

Maimonides also says quite clearly G-d's existence is not like the existence of other things, i.e. really it should have a different name. Actually, the words he uses are "his being found". :D

But I can't write it in words for anyone else, only for myself.

"I wake you up by speaking what you cannot understand" -- The Tallest Man on Earth

---------------


There are fears about which we write "do not inquire"
"All who go to her, never return"

I was nursed on this truth from before I can remember
 I was nursed on this most useless, most crippling of knowledge.

 I can't move any more.
 I hope only to He who does Not Exist, only to He who is True.

 Is it your fault, or mine? I don't know what I did.
 I wasn't twenty yet, so I don't know.

Using the words of the dead man's skull, the only king I've ever met...
He escaped, he learned that some men are just trees twisted into a cruel face.

I don't need a giant, I don't need a tree, I don't need a beast or a bird or a wind
These are all too cruel.

 Take me to Where does Not Exist
Take me home again
Death is not enough today
I must live and forget life
Take away my time, give me yours...

I made some music

bs''d

I don't know who really needs/wants to hear this, but I put Mur's "Into Darkness" to a melody some time in November/December and have been playing around with it out-loud/in-my-head since then...here's my second or third try today at a self-standing recording; I decided it was good enough.

into darkness first acceptable draft

musings on light and darkness

bs''d

What is the mood of an empty will? It's certainly not sad. It wants, but what it wants is nothing.

It definitely exists. It has what it wants. What other kind of existence can a will have? What is the mood of a photon? It wants, so it acts. What is the mood of darkness? It also wants. It also acts. It wants what light wants, or it wouldn't let light have it. It acts where light doesn't? No. It acts everywhere.
Does the light listen to the darkness? Does the darkness listen to the darkness? They don't have to. They're one. One will, one action. Two men are fighting. They think they have two minds. One thinks he wants what the other thinks he doesn't. But they only have one body. His nails want what his arm wants -- they both want his arm to bleed. If the arm didn't want to bleed, it wouldn't. Simple as that. Their body exists. Its mind exists. Their minds exist. Their thoughts exist. He *wants* to think what he thinks -- and he *wants* it to conflict.

And those thoughts, as it turns out, want to be destroyed. His arm wants to be destroyed. His fist wants to be destroyed. He certainly wants to be destroyed.

The question is, will there be anything left? Of course.

He wants to live. He wants to live and be destroyed. He wants to think and have his thoughts destroyed. In a phrase, he wants, but what he wants is nothing.

It's hard to speak for the Jews as a whole. What I am about to say is probably wrong.

The Jews want a lot of things. They want a lot of things to live and be destroyed, and live anyway.  

The living anyway part is important. They want to lift up one foot, and have it fall again. To lift the other foot, and have it fall again. Then to lift the first foot, and so on.

That's why it's called halakha -- from "halakh" -- "He walked."