Pity me not because the light of day

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“Pity me not because the light of day”

BY EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY

Pity me not because the light of day

At close of day no longer walks the sky;

Pity me not for beauties passed away

From field and thicket as the year goes by;

Pity me not the waning of the moon,

Nor that the ebbing tide goes out to sea,

Nor that a man’s desire is hushed so soon,

And you no longer look with love on me.

This have I known always: Love is no more

Than the wide blossom which the wind assails,

Than the great tide that treads the shifting shore,

Strewing fresh wreckage gathered in the gales:

Pity me that the heart is slow to learn

What the swift mind beholds at every turn.

Edna St. Vincent Millay, ladies and gentlemen.

Part of me wants to say she’s the female Nietzsche. She’s basically saying, Don’t pity me because of all this bullshit. Pity me because I didn’t learn it sooner. It’s freaking everywhere. She’s saying F this bullshit. Mic drop.

burp

:rofl:

It all points to something that doesn’t fade away or we wouldn’t hunger for it. And we are to blame if we don’t cultivate it here. No one else. And we have to do this, even if no one else will. THAT is the cross we bear (for the joy set before us) alone, but never alone.

I’m sorry I’m gonna say something that even tops the previous cheesiness now. It’s almost like Jesus & all cross bearers and twice borns are a reverse Sisyphus, humbled over and over because he elevated himself, condemned to bear his seemingly meaningless (in the frame of how he equates meaning with elevation) rock daily. Because he missed the point.

What do you get for the man who has everything but utterly misses the point?

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Even the nothing you think you have will eternally fall from the precipice you keep shoving it back up to.

I don’t care if the grammar is off. Deal wit it.

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Sounds kind of like Nietzche is trying to offer consolation to young Weather. Oh does that feel with sooooo much familiarity.

All restraint forgotten with all maxi mini typecast as 1800’s evolved Nuevo comers from nothing till early greatly depressed thirties, but strength surviving the hones with the wind

All go back, try not to catch me eye for that feel will pass again, and remember that when bardo blinks and covets

That for deserve a rise or fall have you given much thought to it?

What have you presumed that much you require to repay in kind?

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Is it weird being weird?

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Not at all, that level on one hand, be of mythic proportions, the other, merely a dramatic flair, and network, me twist, the brittle amenity of sweet surrender.

. but possibly more than that, for it is others who move , by the movement of the pen, that inflames and changes that which others intuit by description; it’s always they who deny such authorship, for they point to one who will best sync to that image of themself but fear it, consequentially and deny like that some of those witness to it.

This is what other really is in that bottomless vat, start reaping what was sown before, countless of time, or repent to at least one, preferably to two others, it’s no mere description but real movement from what? That makes that difference. I think therefore I thank, or, tank.

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That’s a really long way to say no.

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I wonder if God feels angst because he didn’t ask himself if he wants to exist before not causing himself, and it’s always too late (& impossible) to change his mind that has only ever thought one way about it.

Prolly not, right?

Except when he was incarnate & sweating blood & stuff.

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He probably felt no choice in the matter, so that he would not misunderstand his intensional desire to experience Himself, as an Other/otherswould, could, though that has all ways been predetermined by him , before and after

In fact ‘choice’ is a misnomer, a paradoxical quizlet, which has no zero sum equivalence that could relate to ultimately reduced configuration, and none of which can be summed up as what God means to do, think or feel. God is no One or everyone - He is a vanished eternal pointl of Being, without which every thing, body, becomes a consciousness existing creature, machine., except what a few are beginning to realize, that point is a seed which is within every one in various stages of development , evolving so that the can evolve to have choices to realize that object within.

)( )(

it’s almost miraculous if it didn’t seem as absurd!

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I think you should just skip all that malarkey and realize love is not love without demonstration.

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I realize ze that but at the same time the vanity of existence defies the ideal by escape to the east in particular through the zen abstraction of the form within the form. As the strangeness within it’s formal strangeness,

Mits doubly hard through a change put upon and not willingly either at first, but strangely, familiarly through families or resemblance,

Autistic art hurts like a whale of dickens, hard times and all,

After the so called heard fails to see its awful beauty another Marxist challenge, and so quickly through a mere eigenblick.

For me separating three flows, through analogy and analysis is a substantive requirement to the duplex vanity, firmed and painfully reformed for ever. The skin hardens and the young are pitied, and before we know their anguish through Goethe, Faust and young Weather, we can not abide their connection, albeit, no reference to Wilde’s interchange of ideal and temporal passage of time.

So don’t kid yourself me know, I’m deadly serious if how and why bargains are made, and how difficult a collector he may be. But then, noblesse oblige, the light shrivels the parchment with will’s sustanance, it retreats into the darkness, into the depth, he looks back unto an unfair bargain so he thinks.

Mindful for his despair, falling is ever so much easier, then looking up at eternal visions right before the eyes beholding and only Magic can loosen it’s grip, without taking that away from every new generation.

Call me mad, but seek it in my journey underground with him, and only tears of streams to navigate through the labyrinth.

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But… do you sprechen ze deutsche?

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This really is not as funny as it appears. You’ve no idea. You realize that the situation is dire, and sure there is no problem with that for me, since all along the watch tower, there has never been any doubt at least in my mind of any sort of fabrication, or misrepresentation of the philosophical inquiry that I tried to describe.

Sure my studies were aborted, and the Faustian thing is perfectly valid,and now at my I believe closing years, I managed to avoid the consequences, foreshadowed, but then now, found a live which can stand on it’s own, irrespective.

Sure I was a whale, or the guy swallowed by it, or even I swallowed the significance of it without realizing it’s significance how’s that for a resourceful guy whose live of being at the very bottom with both powers, knowing full well that the existential vanity must realize the vision of the ideal is a futile project, yet necessary? A magic kept alive for younger men, who will kill to recapture it if need be.

And we more mature, supposedly sensible fellows must go along with it, nor shirk for it’s petty waste, the energy transform that keeps the light burning for those we are responsible for. This is nothing new, but what is new, is the a personal acquaintance of its magic force can result in the self burn, the utter illusion that such can actually reduce even to such as Nietzche to tears and more. The travel to the East is sorrily a real transmission of the force, where since the United States and France have caused the fine when love and faith, brotherhood and virtual recreation of the pre set ideals, must integrate them with their varieties of popular experience and do that without stumbling on few mistakes of naive emissions of rhetoric.

That mission has to go crash course, so that man can relearn the recite of live in it’s every aspect, and relearn it quick, by utilizing that magic fire which burns regardless of the kids we went through, over a few hundred years, or, the geopolitical reality will crash through by virtue of it’s superior numbers,

An eternal mystical participation must stay on course, even if, we must be enslaved anew, as those babes in arms were slavishly and inelegantly through thousands, not a few hundreds of years.

We are called upon, to engage this reversal, so that the young may proceed seamlessly as we had so far suppressed them, forbidding their up to now overspent energies of procuring their wants even before overindulging in what the though as their needs were.

There is no stopping now, and those who feel differently then those who are stretched beyond two differing streams, pulled oppposit ways, must grow a third, if to survive the terror again and again.

This interpersonal humanistic venture must grow roots in fertile soill, and above all means even nurtured and protected, so that the disconnect be so obviously result in a deranged artificially created regime driven by fear of a nothingness, which had to be created by necessary allusion . a need even for that autisuggestive process to deal with. Facts and illusions, fakery and snake oil sellers have never ceased to operate in the dark, until their wares become overwhelming and then they awake suddenly as if from a bad dream and thei effects of that recoil , as the sudden impression imprinted on their face becomes more intolerably painful to them, then even exposing what really is going on under their ever reforming mask,

Wake up . I will, not today, but tomorrow, post the 1848 poem of that offshoot of a necessary nationalistic poem by Hungary’s Sanford Petifi, for those who believ not that democracy is merely a shallow word, but the fire burning within each and every human being, and ze jest of it is the seed that needs to grow, even in the darkest places.

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Course, bound to the rock can not go way, since responsible to the brother who could have become a priest but didn’t make it, so, the magic of love tortuously learned keeps the promise, and avoid collection by necessary trickery.

No days goes without leave unrequited, though

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How unfortunate that you are in such bad need of a proofreader that I will not keep trying to decode you.

Perhaps Shirley can help you out with that.

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No need absolutely, as I may need to correlate this short video to all , All the aforementioned, while understanding your parafoxical situation albeit you the teacher and me me know , just quipping.

()()

https://www.reddit.com/r/Nietzsche/comments/12bd5qg/nietzsche_and_kierkegaard_on_return_and_repitition/?rdt=45378

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I dunno but shows it go on must. Regardless out of concerned self if no thing else.

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I do apologize but if you did know, how necessary this proof is, then the reader may not need to absolve me from the get go

At any rate what need have I for an ego I never had, but a perfunctory routine

He who knows best knows best

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Of All

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I am no he.

Knowing without loving is … dead.

passé dead, too

eventually

Not a good look.