@waitingindeathrow - Tumblr Blog

I didn’t want any new clothes at all; because if I had to look ugly anyway, I wanted to at least be comfortable. I let the awful clothes affect even my posture, walked around with my back bowed, my shoulders drooping, my hands and arms all over the place. I was afraid of mirrors, because they showed an inescapable ugliness.

Franz Kafka

#Kafka #lit

La noche cíclica

Lo supieron los arduos alumnos de Pitágoras: los astros y los hombres vuelven cíclicamente; los átomos fatales repetirán la urgente Afrodita de oro, los tebanos, las ágoras.

En edades futuras oprimirá el centauro con el casco solípedo el pecho del lapita; cuando Roma sea polvo, gemirá en la infinita noche de su palacio fétido el minotauro.

Volverá toda noche de insomnio: minuciosa. La mano que esto escribe renacerá del mismo vientre. Férreos ejércitos construirán el abismo. (David Hume de Edimburgo dijo la misma cosa).

No sé si volveremos en un ciclo segundo como vuelven las cifras de una fracción periódica; pero sé que una oscura rotación pitagórica noche a noche me deja en un lugar del mundo

que es de los arrabales. Una esquina remota que puede ser del Norte, del Sur o del Oeste, pero que tiene siempre una tapia celeste, una higuera sombría y una vereda rota.

Ahí está Buenos Aires. El tiempo que a los hombres trae el amor o el oro, a mí apenas me deja esta rosa apagada, esta vana madeja de calles que repiten los pretéritos nombres

de mi sangre: Laprida, Cabrera, Soler, Suárez… Nombres en que retumban (ya secretas) las dianas, las repúblicas, los caballos y las mañanas, las felices victorias, las muertes militares.

Las plazas agravadas por la noche sin dueño son los patios profundos de un árido palacio y las calles unánimes que engendran el espacio son corredores de vago miedo y de sueño.

Vuelve la noche cóncava que descifró Anaxágoras; vuelve a mi carne humana la eternidad constante y el recuerdo ¿el proyecto? de un poema incesante: «Lo supieron los arduos alumnos de Pitágoras…»

#borges

Sin título (María Paula Quintero, 2019)

#yo

Introduction to Hindu Doctrines

René Guénon

Metaphysics (beyond physics) is Universal Knowledge, unchanging

Truth is One, but it has many dialects

Same content can adopt many forms

Nature is world of appeareances. The lowest in the chain of Being

Decentralization of ‘western’ ‘rational’ ‘scientific’ point of view

Metaphysic | Religion (Pure intellectuality | Mixed intellectuality)

Religion: dogma (intellectual + sentimental) + moral (social) + cultual (ritual)

Metaphysics: Being is Knowing. Subject and Object are One. Supra individual, Supra Rational. Inmediate. Intuitive. Not only infinite and eternal but spaceless and timeless. Excludes all systematization

All expressions about it are defficient

Images and words symbols of the supra sensible. Less narrowly limited that ordinary language but not an end in itself.

Non-dualism: negates dualism (dual system). Doesnt imply only two terms. Doesn’t reduce one term to another. Unity deriving from complementariness not opposition. eg. matter & spirit, inmanence & trascendence.

Theory in service of realization.

#guenon

violentwavesofemotion-deactivat

“Free me. I hear the voices of my dead.”

— Edith Wharton, from Artemis to Actaeon & Other Verse; “Pomegranate Seed,”

violentwavesofemotion-deactivat

“I keep thinking, thinking, and my thoughts are all sick, and my head is sick.”

— Fyodor Dostoevsky, from Stories; “The Meek One,” written c. 1876

pairedaeza

“Rahen na rahen hum, mehaka karenge, ban ke kali, ban ke sabaa, bagh-e-wafa mein…”

Regardless of my presence, my fragrance will linger here: as a flower, as a breeze, in the garden of faith…

-Majrooh Sultanpuri, ‘Rahen Na Rahen Hum’, translated by me.

violentwavesofemotion-deactivat

If poets use such expressions, it is because they need them, because emotion and experience force them out of them,

Thomas Mann, tr. by Willard R. Trask, from “The Black Swan,” wr. c. 1954 (via violentwavesofemotion)

talestalesof

“Everything interests me, but nothing holds me.”

— Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet (via mvstermvnd)

oceans

“I have done nothing all summer but wait for myself to be myself again —”

— Georgia O’Keeffe, in a letter to Russel Vernon Hunter, from Georgia O’Keeffe: Art and Letters (via luthienne)

violentwavesofemotion-deactivat

“The truth is that I am still lost in grief.”

— Renée Vivien, tr. by Jeanette H. Foster, from “A Woman Appeared To Me,”

moonbutterfly

In reality, the world is our soul’s dream. || În faptă, lumea-i visul sufletului nostru.

Mircea Eliade - Domnişoara Christina (Miss Christina)

fatifer

I could not believe that I was like other thousands of unhappy mortals who love, forget, and die without reckoning something eternal, something definitive.

Mircea Eliade, Maitreyi (via fatifer)