Books and my self-worth: I'm an acolyte of self-mythologizing

Subject: embracing the inevitable, Time is our glory

I went to a bookstore today, my friend did too, a different one. That we coalesce around a similar frequency--the emergent fact of what the essense of the respite of just these sort of places are, is known as one or just a few places where conscious props follows. The frequenting of these places, like a student cntr couch for me, and UK bookstore, and perhaps his attentive stand in front of books, is looking on toward the disbursement of knowledge, a star cluster shattered or brought into effect. Man, really it's grabbing for straws that minds meet at all, but imposing the possiblity in our condition IS attending to the fact at least, and commonly as what ought to be done rather than community relegating a mystery of otherness to loss of inner-scrutiny: THEY wouldn't ask about the mutual arising community...and I am nothing without them. The chair where I have died a thousand deaths can't be a badge of honor--the shame making me high--as in the relish I feel I can re-live past episteme solving earth crisis for ME. That I have died is indisoluable, I know I have. I look at death more or more sanctimoniously ad infinitum, it is answer to a more complete measure of these days gone by. You live alone, but you die in crowds and among the power that rids you of its responsibilty. We are One when we die, we look to be one.


This is what I have derived from reading Jalaluddin Rumi's father's writings.

Subject: thoughts as the garment of night warmed me

So the best thing we can do with experience is to equal it--as opposed to fearing that we might absorb experience and become jaded. We compartmentalize complexity and unknowing all the time. If we start projecting unknowing, and really that is only apathy, then we get thrown on the banks of our heart and its seat of awareness gets as unreal as habit and mimickry. If the heart was a ditch of blood, unrealized relationship is understood if we imagine that love's loss has us the proselytes as being thrown upon its banks.
We taste the activities in the world. Can anyone see we've participated only thru observation? The activities of contemplation and transcending or good times albeit, just that, has curtains draw from the liminal sky and the earth-body... here's where the senses say I am bound by an unconditional single phenomenon--consciousness. Hopefully Higher Ground will be in Equality and Self-consciousness at once... the little Problem.
If you see me thru the lens that I am entertaining the activities in the world, this creation, G^d's mention of his works, it is some justice we may all deliberate over that we all are in medias res of his meditation.