formlessness

endure

*

light casts unfairly, shaded
by envious shadows, hoarding

lips denied exclamation mark busses
turn inward, bitten by mourning teeth

and gums with no glory.


would winds take note,
blow tidings benevolent, hereward

limbs undone by sunlight’s loss
would again turn a cellular face

skyward, luxuriant.


formless fate and folly
ground into paste’s pastiche

spreads itself as a cold butter stick
knifed by a warm blade, viscous,

eager to coat and saturate.


rise, snap collar about my face
open door,
endure such

shall i. 


*
8/15

What is Ganesha’s form? Human or animal? This or that? Or both? Or neither? Sometimes, the truth does not exist here or there, but it exists in the in-between spaces. This is the threshold that connects the inner and the outer. This space is the called the liminal space, a space that is amorphous, shapeshifting, a bit of this and a bit of that. Ganesha is a liminal god, who connects two apparently opposing realities. Thus he connects Shiva, who is the transcendent formless spiritual reality with Shakti, who is the imminent tangible material reality. He is divinity within, she is divinity without. He is the observer, she is observation. He is thought, she is form. Ganesha connects the two, hence he is this and that, man and animal, fire and water. He is worshipped by the hermits who renounce the world as well as by householders who enjoy the world. That is why his image is often seen on thresholds of temples, not as a guardian but as the embodiment of the threshold itself, enabling all to move from here to there.
—  Devdutt Pattanaik

Carl Jung - Becoming Whole (Aion Chart showing symbolic representation of the psychic totality through the concept of the Self using Western religious metaphors to make his examples), “Researches into the Phenomenology of the Self”, 1951.

This song was written by me and my best friends about our house that we all lived in at the time. Most of the people that wrote this song have moved out and left the band. The line “we will exist when this house is gone” should be comforting, it was supposed to let me know that eventually I was going to feel this fucking terrible about a very important part of my life ending. Growing up is fucking dumb.

“Let’s travel under the floorboards. Let’s sing to the curtains. We are all carpeted. We are all painted. We’re becoming the walls of this house, so let’s burn down. I am a window (I am a window). I am transparent (I am transparent). I am the air in which you are standing. We are the lawn and we will exist when this house is gone. But we’re not scared, though we should be scared. Our voices fill the house then out the windows and into the yard, where smoke and grass are holding our hands. We’re not alone in our interests inside the rooms that connect us. We will become everything, we’ll shatter as the doorball sings. We can be everywhere just like the carpet in this house. We’re moved in and peeling the layers of skin we drag around. Burning the kindling. The embers, they make a simple sound. The stone walls are sweating and our friends are dancing in the dark. The friction brings a reaction and this house was waiting for a spark”

Let’s travel under the floorboards. Let’s sing to the curtains. We are all carpeted. We are all painted. We’re becoming the walls of this house, so let’s burn down. I am a window (I am a window). I am transparent (I am transparent). I am the air in which you are standing. We are the lawn and we will exist when this house is gone. But we’re not scared, though we should be scared. Our voices fill the house then out the windows and into the yard, where smoke and grass are holding our hands. We’re not alone in our interests inside the rooms that connect us. We will become everything, we’ll shatter as the doorball sings. We can be everywhere just like the carpet in this house. We’re moved in and peeling the layers of skin we drag around. Burning the kindling. The embers, they make a simple sound. The stone walls are sweating and our friends are dancing in the dark. The friction brings a reaction and this house was waiting for a spark

theworldisa - Gordon Paul

Be extremely subtle, even to the point of formlessness. Be extremely mysterious, even to the point of soundlessness. Thereby you can be the director of the opponent’s fate.
—  Extract from The Art of War, Sun Tzu (544 BC - 496 BC)

Don’t get set into one form, adapt it and build your own, and let it grow, be like water. Empty your mind, be formless, shapeless — like water. Now you put water in a cup, it becomes the cup; You put water into a bottle it becomes the bottle; You put it in a teapot it becomes the teapot. Now water can flow or it can crash. Be water, my friend.

Bruce Lee

It is important to view me not as a limited “form identity”, but rather, as a spiritual symbol; facilitating the role of a signpost, showing others the way to their formless and timeless eternal essence already existing within them.  -Anon I mus