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Reflection on existence in this moment

I feel like so many people. I feel like the tip of needle constantly pushing forward. but if you look closely wright at the tip, where it shows me living in this exact instant you can see me being all possible potentials of infinity.

Reflection on art

Humans are like art. We are not born with a meaning. Our existence precedes our essence. As a child it was hard for me to interpret art. But as an adult, art resonates with your experience, history, past. your essence. Art may be significant to a child, however more as a potential of it might be, its more imagination, more ethereal and subjective. As an adult art becomes more intimate, gultural, visceral, it is reflection of humanity expressed through the eyes of a sensible person.

Brief meditation on essence, being and existing

Is it I who is making choices leading myself towards the self I desire, seeping from what i would call my essence. OR Am I adapting to a chaotic and random series of events that are constantly shaping and changing the form of me. Perhaps the answer lies in between. OR not in between either. OR even in between others including or excluding them. The essence may exist as a state of a person in that moment in time. which would be a different essence from a second ago. Therefore essence appears to not be fixed. On the other hand a set of characteristics similar to your hair color or shape of limbs, such as your propensity to feel fear. or your ease to note changes in mood, and therefore these may skew you towards a set of outcomes. So if these innate characteristics are also random, then the rule of adaptation should stand. from the moment we achieve a level of awareness the game starts. Adapting quickly and incessantly. but adapting to achieve what? Homeostasis, contentment, simple evolutionary pressure to propagate species. Again, I don’t think the direction of adaptation is pre-set. It might be for homeostasis, but at other times for contentment, or both or none. So each adaptation and formation of being and so called essence comes from each individual recipe of uniqueness chosen by completely randomness and caos. put in life to create meaning only relevant to each individual.

#prose #spilled thoughts #thoughts #philosophy #existentialism

quotemadness

“As long as you’re trying, I’m staying.”

— Unknown

As I point my gun to the Schrödinger's box. I ask myself;

Will I kill it? Or will it be dead already?

-Rose

quotemadness

“People loved you in the way they knew how—and often it was not the way you knew. Or needed.”

— Josh Lanyon

thepersonalquotes

smspoetry

“watch me paint myself as the hero with the trauma that used to be my bone marrow. look at me twirl in this yellow dress - baby, this is called progress. watch me go back for whipped cream on my hot chocolate before it ever hits rock bottom - i hadn’t taken on the form of a child since that one day in autumn. now, let’s address some of the insults that you’ve sent my way - trying your hardest to put my insecurities on display. it’s times like that i wonder if your pregnant wife knows of the museum of prey that you have hidden away. so, stare at each stretch mark on my resilient flesh that that i’ve embraced because i refuse to be embarrassed of the size of my waist - watch me turn my life into a platform to educate. stand there while i swallow this fistful of pills without shame or fear because it’s obvious to me now why you mocked them - they are key in keeping me here. witness me dump this vodka into the sink because the lenses of my glasses have surprisingly turned pink. by the way, today for me marks one month sober - what does that make you now? 24 years mediocre? stand there while i put out a cigarette and turn the bible you gave me into an ashtray. this is a holy experience and i’m finally at rest - i’m living in sundays. i finally want to stay on this earth so take this front row seat that i saved just for you - i want you forced to watch my rebirth and then i want you to die in that pew. listen closely and hear how my belly laugh now fills the whole room despite having a broken womb because that’s where my poetry blooms. and yeah, i may still smell your spit when i wake up in a cold sweat at night but now you’re just in my mind - it’s me in the spotlight.”

— smspoetry (sexual assault / manipulation)