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LATIN PHRASE OF THE DAY: HAEC COGITATIO SUBIT ANIMUM - AN IDEA STRIKES ME. #latin
LATIN PHRASE OF THE DAY: HAEC COGITATIO SUBIT ANIMUM – AN IDEA STRIKES ME. #latin
LATIN: haec cogitatio subit animum ENGLISH: an idea strikes me. Source: Project Gutenberg EBook of Latin Phrase-Book, by Carl Meissner and Henry William Auden Thank you for visiting!
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the cogitationes are the first absolute items of givenness
the cogitationes are the first absolute items of givenness
At the very outset one might wonder whether such a science is at all possible. If this science calls all knowledge into question, how can it then begin, since every piece of knowledge that might be chosen as a point of departure is thereby also called into question? … Here the Cartesian meditation on doubt provides us with a beginning: the being of the cogitatio, of experience as it occurs…
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Pt. 2: Lonely Nights
I still think about what happened, especially at nights I am by myself. Nights were I think, yeah you are sitting when that woman...girl isn’t. Why didn’t they just come after me? When I am alone, I start to feel their hands on me. Holding me down, drowning in this complete mind fuck.
You think the incident would have made me adverse to the seeing others in pain, but it did just the opposite. Don’t get it twisted, whomever it is willing and ready. I just like to be in the driver’s seat. At least at the end of my scenes someone leaves with a smiling face. I was into the BDSM scene before the incident, but it only amplified it. Actually, the need to control seeped into every aspect of my life. I ran myself into the ground and almost destroyed the band. More on that later.
I never told anyone about what happened that night, especially Pete. I didn’t know how to say it. I don’t know what happened to that girl, her body, or anything. I would feel like a failure if I did. I’m supposed to be this rock in his life, the one who never does anything wrong. I want to be everything right for him.
Take 1: An Origin of Someone Who Feels Out of Control
Does a kidnapping count if the person was never physically taken? That’s the question I ask myself when I think about that night behind the bus. They took a part of me, held it hostage and gave it back once they had finished. It seemed innocent enough at first, he seemed like a nice enough kid. He introduced himself, nothing out of the ordinary about him. The compliments and admiration were fulfilling as ever, so I didn’t think too much into it. Even to this day, I can’t keep myself from the small boosts I get from the niceties.
Okay back on track, Stumph.
He told me they had something to show me. I was a naive son of a bitch, and followed him. Two of them had her held, strapped so she couldn’t move. Before I knew it, one of them had my hands behind my back as if I was getting cuffed. There was a string of declarations of admiration about us, what we do, and how they would do anything for us. I agreed, confused, but tried to talk them down. That’s when I saw it, the knife. When I say I have never talked that fast, I swear I could have battled Busta Rhymes and won. My body fought against them, but it was no use. I was useless and forced to watch as they showed me their “dedication” to us. How they were willing to kill for the band they loved so much.
Afterward, I asked if we could have security for meetings after and before shows. I didn’t want to stop having these meetings, especially for the kids that couldn’t afford the outrageous meet and greet packages. I did loose more than what shreds of innocence I had left that night. I lost the ability to feel completely in control, of my situations and my life. More on that later, I suppose.
Mentre che 'l cor dagli amorosi vermi fu consumato, e 'n fiamma amorosa arse
-Petrarca, canzoniere