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“I am in the world, I am of the world, I act within the world.
I am in myself, of myself, I act through myself.
Separate and united all at once, a tiny cog in a cosmic machine, I collaborate, I receive and give, I absorb and distribute.
My nakedness is total: no principle guides me, no law but nature’s.
If I say ‘I am,’ it is because, in the infinite multiplicity of beings and things, I have found my place — in the world and in myself; it is one and the same. I no longer need to search. I hold no image of myself. I am where I belong. Here, and everywhere, willingly bound.
I dwell in every speck of dust, every territory, every river’s path, every star, every part of my body. And how could I not respect the world, my bones and flesh? None of this matter is mine — it was lent to me, only for a fragment of time. And I revere it, for it is my temple, the temple where the unthinkable God resides. Spirit is matter, and matter is spirit. The universe is constantly birthing and bursting, and at its center, where I kneel, I am.
When I say ‘I am there,’ I mean ‘within that’ which sustains all life — the endless source of energy flowing through my mind, heart, and sex. Energies of sublime purity emerge from me, cleansing the world. I return fragrance to the air, sweetness to the river, fertility to the earth, and life to all oceans. There is no place in the cosmos where I am absent.
In every instant, I remain in the present. Neither past nor future binds me. No regrets, no plans. Constant, loyal to my place, I receive and I give. And when I say ‘I belong to the world and to myself,’ it means I give myself fully, uprooting even the darkest seed of judgment. I do not judge. I love, and I serve.
I do not separate, not even by a hair’s breadth. I belong — which means I venerate, I obey. That is why I am naked: naked like a tree, a bird, or a cloud. I am of my body, my flesh, and my blood. Being, I cannot abandon or be abandoned by myself. How could I not love what so lovingly possesses me?
As I give myself to the earth, I give myself to my flesh and bones. As I trust the oceans, I trust my blood. As I yield to the air, I yield to my skin. As I surrender to the stars, I surrender to my hair. And full of this love — love of a slave, radiant — I act upon the world and upon myself.
To act is to flow with the world: clearing obstacles, transmitting energy from beyond the stars. I enrich, I purify, I nourish, I understand, I cleanse. I act upon myself too: I open to all infinities, letting the breath of the gods pass through every pore of my blood. I allow all mysteries to pass through me. And in the center of my now-infinite womb, I receive — and birth — the totality of light.”
Alejandro Jodorowsky
If I say ‘I am,’ it is because, in the infinite multiplicity of beings and things, I have found my place — in the world and in myself; it is one and the same. I no longer need to search. I hold no image of myself. I am where I belong. Here, and everywhere, willingly bound.
I dwell in every speck of dust, every territory, every river’s path, every star, every part of my body. And how could I not respect the world, my bones and flesh? None of this matter is mine — it was lent to me, only for a fragment of time. And I revere it, for it is my temple, the temple where the unthinkable God resides. Spirit is matter, and matter is spirit. The universe is constantly birthing and bursting, and at its center, where I kneel, I am.
When I say ‘I am there,’ I mean ‘within that’ which sustains all life — the endless source of energy flowing through my mind, heart, and sex. Energies of sublime purity emerge from me, cleansing the world. I return fragrance to the air, sweetness to the river, fertility to the earth, and life to all oceans. There is no place in the cosmos where I am absent.
In every instant, I remain in the present. Neither past nor future binds me. No regrets, no plans. Constant, loyal to my place, I receive and I give. And when I say ‘I belong to the world and to myself,’ it means I give myself fully, uprooting even the darkest seed of judgment. I do not judge. I love, and I serve.
I do not separate, not even by a hair’s breadth. I belong — which means I venerate, I obey. That is why I am naked: naked like a tree, a bird, or a cloud. I am of my body, my flesh, and my blood. Being, I cannot abandon or be abandoned by myself. How could I not love what so lovingly possesses me?
As I give myself to the earth, I give myself to my flesh and bones. As I trust the oceans, I trust my blood. As I yield to the air, I yield to my skin. As I surrender to the stars, I surrender to my hair. And full of this love — love of a slave, radiant — I act upon the world and upon myself.
To act is to flow with the world: clearing obstacles, transmitting energy from beyond the stars. I enrich, I purify, I nourish, I understand, I cleanse. I act upon myself too: I open to all infinities, letting the breath of the gods pass through every pore of my blood. I allow all mysteries to pass through me. And in the center of my now-infinite womb, I receive — and birth — the totality of light.”
Alejandro Jodorowsky
3d ago
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⭐there is something figuratively beautiful about the things we know and don’t know, the sublime and mundane
and when you visit the beach, do you ever think about if the animals who live in the embrace of the depths remember the beauty of the ocean?
where the salt envelops every single one of us,
accepting us as kin
letting her wind tousle our raw, visceral edges
and pepper them with her sea-foamed kisses
which tell me that it’s okay to pretend
and okay to tell the ocean all of myself
the ocean reaches out to me, hands cloaked in the sharp coolness of water and something else- something i don’t understand
as I poke around in a tide pool, like a vendor at a bustling market, observing the wares that the ocean has to offer
and i turn around and ask her, do the barnacles see themselves? do anemones understand their own beauty, fragile and ephemeral?
i don’t think they do.
but the ocean doesn’t have any words for me, instead shutting my mouth with a shhhh
as her sandy dress rustles down the shore, laced with white foam and gossamer trails of ripples
and wordlessly, tells me to look
and i do.
until the sun hurriedly retreats from the wispy radiance of the moon, enrobed in puffy clouds
and it's just the three of us.
the moon tugs at the ocean’s hand, dancing to their own secret rhythm,
letting me see them in their love.
personally, i think it’s beautiful \\ and i wish i had something like it
and the ocean laughs. nothing jeering or ridiculing, simply an acknowledgement that i understand.
everything around me falls,
like petals cast off from a chrysanthemum.
and then, we were wordless
like the ocean had never spoken in the first place.
i want to descend into the depths of the ocean one day, to be hugged once more and never again. not because i am tired of being alive, but frankly within me exists too much zeal to live. uncontrollable surges of wow i am alive in flesh, blood through my veins, and thoughts in my head become more addictive than any form of fentanyl, cocaine, heroin and better than any gateway into a better life or a better existence, transcending normality and the moment it’s just me in my head, without the viscous energy of being alive suddenly drains me like a leaking bucket, decrepit and dry. i want to burn like a torch, setting my world alight into embers, into flames, into an inferno. Sunrise:: being alight || with a halo of only thoughts and dreams || and the divinity of something new
i want to descend into the depths of the ocean one day, to be hugged once more and never again. not because i am tired of being alive, but frankly within me exists too much zeal to live. uncontrollable surges of wow i am alive in flesh, blood through my veins, and thoughts in my head become more addictive than any form of fentanyl, cocaine, heroin and better than any gateway into a better life or a better existence, transcending normality and the moment it’s just me in my head, without the viscous energy of being alive suddenly drains me like a leaking bucket, decrepit and dry. i want to burn like a torch, setting my world alight into embers, into flames, into an inferno. Sunrise:: being alight || with a halo of only thoughts and dreams || and the divinity of something new
May 2, 2025
Rec
🌄I have many Ideas. I ponder over them like an obsessive collector; organizing, re-organizing, packing them into words so the meaning is captured, transferable. Most of my transformative experiences are unexplainable - how does one capture the depth of a still, silent night? The whispering of leaves in warm summer breezes. Vague feelings of wholism while sitting in the grass, photosynthesizing like plant ancestors - a fish swims without direction. Many call it god but the church is alienating; the word massacred and butchered beyond the recognition of what it once meant.
One idea I have kept unmolested by the opinions of others, is that these holistic experiences in nature, with friends, live music shows, where the pulse of life beats strongly, are everything. An anchor point for a life well lived. It’s not enough to just be in nature, alchemizing the circumstance missing the key ingredient. A couple of friends and I went on a trip to where the ocean went on forever, unbroken horizon. We were down by the water, sunset and glistening, warmth of the sun and sand beneath my feet. But it was nothing more than looking. I did not have access to this other way of being - locked out, truthfully, by being eaten alive by the stress of exams and stewing in the feelings of being unlovable. It is somehow within you; the trees and ocean reflect it back to me. A quality of self brought out by sincerity and solitude. It’s everything, reflected in everything worthwhile.
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😃We are just at the beginning, eventually the stage was set for us. Bleeding through the pages. finding my voice, only to scream at the abyss, This is who I am. As much as the rest of me doesn’t care. We root ourselves in between the collapse of judgement and mentor those who seek refuge in the confines of rebellion, judge us now, before it is too late. Let the gates wide open roll through the next stage of who you are. Find peace in the precipice of sanity. Clutch your pearls. Relinquish all doubt. This steak through the heart leads to a rebirth of mind, body and soul. Choose wisely who to judge. Leap forth and cast a spell that will last forever. It is a tone of fear. Just as all of us spare ourselves the nuisance of senile delinquent bravery, so too do you realise what we have become. A pity party of miles and miles of stone. Unbothered and feather light. They shine a light on the wicked, we set the trenches for them to die. Rise from the ashes like a phoenix. And die again. This is what we call fate of words. Speech is just meandering thoughts finding their way to us through a disguise. A mask worn like a shield. It is messy business to not decide ourselves from entanglement. An escape from the world we choose. We seek refuge in confines of sanity. Everything else is just nonsensical strong arming, take a target out to the field, feast upon it. Remember who you are at the center. That is who you have always been. A disciple bearing fruit. From a tree in the desert. This seems rational for now atleast. It could last a lifetime. Pain, anger, meaning. All dissipate at the vision of a truth that is walking and feeling just like I do. That is who I choose for myself to be whole again. It drains me to see the plastic shelf empty. The books on the floor. Mud on the walls. A snake in the grass lurking for food. Watching me as I go. This is what it has become after all this time. A sight to see. Imagine if I step on it would it cry out for help or attack me as a gesture of love and admiration. To create you must first find where to place the calmness of your skin. Only then do you don the wool of the sheep. It is quite alarming to suggest otherwise but sincerely speaking it can go either way. Find a clasp and fit on a bunch of roses let them change in every way and water them back to life. That is the circle. It is quite a thing to behold. We are all here for pleasure and that is important for rest and counting on the last page. This mouth speaks volumes. It has mountains closing in and rapture of a banquet. Seize all information and take it home to unfold in a library of safety. Yet here we are. Unannounced and determined. Go ahead ask what you were going to ask. Say it with pride. It is only a sentence after all. Which of you is alive and who will be the decider of what happens next. Perhaps that is the beauty of the unknown. To dance with ash as armor. Perhaps our fate is sealed after all. Do dance for me
Top Recs from @sa______ul
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I first heard Combat Baby from this very album in my late teens — it carried a weight of melancholy that pulled me in from the sadness itself.
That urge to dance even when your heart is hanging by the last thread.
I stumbled back into it this week.
Listening to it now, I recognize it as a defining reference in my own sound. The use of piano and other keys alongside raw, unprocessed synths puts all the weight on the harmony — a harmony that forces me to leave behind that old world underground. You won’t find it anymore.
Listening to it now, I recognize it as a defining reference in my own sound. The use of piano and other keys alongside raw, unprocessed synths puts all the weight on the harmony — a harmony that forces me to leave behind that old world underground. You won’t find it anymore.
2d ago
Rec
Brian Eno created these cards with Peter Schmidt as creative lifelines.
The idea is to draw one at random whenever you’re feeling blocked, to help move the work forward.
I always remember to use them a bit late — but eventually, I do.
Here’s the link to the website where you can draw a random card and keep going.
I always remember to use them a bit late — but eventually, I do.
Here’s the link to the website where you can draw a random card and keep going.
19h ago
