glory! : on the body in relation to the self

washer

Goodnight my love Remember me as you fall to sleep Fill your pockets with the dust and the memories That rises from the shoes on my feet I won't be back here Though we may meet again I know it's dark outside Don't be afraid Everytime I ever cried from fear Was just a mistake that I made Wash yourself in your tears And build your church On the strength of your faith Please Listen to me Don't let go Don't let this desperate moonlight leave me With your empty pillow Promise me the sun will rise again I too am tired now Embracing thoughts of tonight's dreamless sleep My head is empty My toes are warm I am safe from harm...

Monday, December 4, 2023

on the body in relation to the self

i do not believe in nihilism. i do believe in a sort of lack of real meaning in this life apart from servitude to God and beauty.

i believe nothing truly matters in regard to matter except for the presence aesthetic beauty and/or divine importance.

the physical body is but a canvas we have wrapped around our wandering souls. we decorate as we wish and style it as we want. we choose to wear our symbols and display our works. as we walk, feed, grow and decay down, it wears and strains. it is a part of it. the human body is a beautiful machine that is vulnerable and frail.

weak is the flesh. we are to do as ordered. fast and abstain from sexual pleasure and defilement of the self. the self is not the body, the body is a representation of the self. our real job is to create a home for it and make it our own. its our car and garage, so to speak?

i think we also could easily go about our lives as we wish. our body as a car, again. a vehicle to get us to a café, the movie theatre, the bar, a restaurant, the church or the synagogue. the resting place of of an affair, a motel, maybe a sex shop or a dungeon. who knows, do of anything as you will. i want to touch sexual subjects, i think theyre important to talk about. i think i have a unique understanding that some of you might not like. anyway.

it doesnt matter what we do to it. ive heard statements such as that the body has to be returned as it was given to us by God. i do not think so. i think its inevitable for the body to run down. not work out enough, work out too much, not seeing the sun, too much sun, too much food, too little, bad foods, good foods, too much fiber, too much meat.

more than these examples, which will happen through thime, youll fall from a tree and hurt your hands when you hit the ground. youll also fall and scrape the skin off your knees. youll pick at your dry lips and bleed, youll get into an argument with your brother and get a nasty scar over your brow as a result. youll fall off a bike and get got. it is what it is.

we cant return the body we were given. we shouldnt see it that way. because we were given this body, not lended this body. i have so many little scars. i have one in my nose, when i got my nose job which i regret more than anything ive ever regretted. i have scars on my thighs and arms because im stupid and not very good at emotional overloads. i have scars on my knees for being insolent and energetic as a child. i have a scar under my chin for being a bit too rushed on the stairs. we all do.

the body is a gift that can experience lifes pleasures and pains. sickness, good food, bad food and the result of it, kisses, hugs, cuts, bruises, music, sunsets, sunlight, burns. we all will age and get old and wrinkly. and we all will make use of this body and grind it to ashes. its what God intended. get a tattoo or carve a deep cut in the shape of a heart on your thigh, get a piercing, dress weird, get fuckass bangs, grow your hair down to your waist. as you wish. it is yours.

He gave it to you. its the greatest gift He could ever give you. you can do anything right now. isnt that really nice? the greatest canvas and the widest of all experiences. seek them out while you can, after this life you will never see the sun again, wont ever feel it on your skin again, wont ever eat your favorite soup, kiss your partner, hug your friends, listen to your favorite band and sing to the radio in your car. wont dance to your favorite song again, loud and clear in the club. never get drunk again. never see your body, bleed, shower. enjoy it, good God i will miss it when i have to.

man these are ugly

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sylvia plath, the bell jar

I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.

Psalm 18: 6-11

In my distress I called upon the Lord, And cried out to my God; He heard my voice from His temple, And my cry came before Him, even to His ears. Then the earth shook and trembled; The foundations of the hills also quaked and were shaken, Because He was angry. Smoke went up from His nostrils, And devouring fire from His mouth; Coals were kindled by it. He bowed the heavens also, and came down With darkness under His feet. And He rode upon a cherub, and flew; He flew upon the wings of the wind. He made darkness His secret place; His canopy around Him was dark waters And thick clouds of the skies.