the only people for me

are the mad ones, the ones

who are mad to live, mad to talk,

mad to be saved, desirous of

everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a common place thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue center light pop up and everybody goes ‘AWWWWWW!’

-ON THE ROAD-JACK KEROUAC

soul with a hundred thousand bodies everything’s myself; i talk only of me. like a wave i rise in my own body ——- sea and wave the same wild water.

-rumi-

[…] again and again we must reach into the unknown, mysterious part of ourself, eliminating all resistance to the creative process of self-discovery and developing the discipline to be a free spirit. to do this, we have to be willing to give up all attachment to specific identities based on gender, class, profession, sexual preference, nationality, and religion and explore ourselves as fluid fields of energy. to do this we have to drop all expectations we may be dragging with us from other times, places, and people. we have to strip ourselves bare until we unveil our naked soul.

-on lyrical-sweat your prayers-gabrielle roth-

how does it feel

how does it feel

to be on your own

with no direction home

like a complete unknown

like a rolling stone?

-bob dylan-

at the stillpoint of the turning world

there the dance is.

and without the point

that stillpoint

there would be no dance

and there is only the dance.

-t. s. eliot-