Mindblown: a blog about philosophy.

…..and she’d have to admit, I’m charming, well I imagine a good comeback from her would be that she’s more, and I’d have to admit that and then I’d dress up in some of her special clothes, when she wasn’t looking, I’m sure she’d have them, and she’d find me lying on the bed, and…

My peers pierced red my ear, my earlobe torn open, Big sky, crashed in confusion, stralian finger-pointing song, southern-cross red: Was it the end, or heartbreak, or final injustice, I found, no, it was love unconditional that cannot be harmed, I cried for her, because, my open  heart just said, as it bled just emotion…

Worth noting, if these creatures who talk in unison monotones, who stand among 1000000, who, when the bugle calls, say, “I was the one, look at me, not her, and I stood outside this person’s house, along with the rest, this person just a mortal, I stood as 1000000, we whispered at them devil, that…

              And how you exist      And tide Come and go My guidance for this meditation; I’ll take you thru my heart: A path thru the crowd: they call you cruel to me, tho you be cunning, and I love that I see your mind    Floating In a pool This, my heart seeing you…

3am: In the morning…so taken aback astonishment, at-Myself!Hypocrite, wannabe, and again woman, read my former self, in feminism, in these words: In the very celebration of the perfect human woman, both humanity and women were subtly denigratedWarner quoted in Baring and Cashford Now, I beg to differ, I just want to be denigrated for kicks,…

Describe the nature of longing: Well, just now, visions: Behind dark shades, and those shades are her dark eyes, out of which pours wet obsession, icicles into dark light, light into web, webs stream from her eyes in compassionate tears; Two mirrors, gazing back and forth, Lost in immensities of Themselves, each other Themselves? Each…

From a hedge spinning cocoons, orange butterflies, pressing, around me and then new sky, clear sky, bird high in clouded form, realm of blackbird and magpie song, How do I send this picture to your phone? In your car, in this enchanted realm, you’re a vision of Queen Maeb herself: stately, sorrowful, something immortal hidden…

I took a picture on my mobile, of fractals of leaves, of undulating succulents, in green, reminded me of one of my brothers  drawings’ lightning shaped symmetry Coming down into artform, And i asked him, does he agree? Is that the aim of his artwork? Replication and rhythm or unfoldment, revelation? And art, like martial…

Young and Adele, doctors and nurses on the school oval, and after talking marriage, her golden curls, me, a five year old, and then her leaving, and that little boy who followed me around, everywhere, and beat me up as savagely as he could, kind of made me hate myself, So on school and people,…

This me, Dean in the rain, rebel, in obsession glorifying, celebrating with me, giggling cheerfully, leaves soft to hear, see you again, bright star, give a cheer, My hips bare the mark of everyone bared down upon, now softened with love, and freedom to give away to no say, to a state of utter confusion,…