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Thursday, April 5, 2012

The Voluntary Insomniac

I am the
Voluntary insomniac.

I suffer from no such misfortune.
Midnight to 3 is a blessing,
At night, I'm reality's surgeon.

Delving head-first into current events,
And philosophies of East and of West;
Jack Kerouac and Jean Paul-Sarte have me sweating;
And I look forward to Alan Watts next.

Lets discover it all!
How exciting it is,
I've been privileged as I am alive.

I read and I write,
Walk dark streets on some nights,
And on others, 
I lay and watch stars.

I am the
Voluntary insomniac.

On some nights I sit and sip tea,
Read Al-Jazeera's new headlines,
And depart upon intellects sea.

In the depth of the night I become everything;
Every person, every move, every sound.

Every taste, every touch, every feeling, every thought,
I am the stars, the ocean, the ground.

In the present I become the future and past
And explore the great misunderstood;
Everything becomes clear as my boat starts to steer,
And my feet waver from where they once stood.

And on every sweet night, it doesn't matter how far
My ship crossed infinity's sea,
I am lost on open water forever;
I adventure eternally.

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The world is meaningless,

there is no God or gods, there are no morals, the universe is not moving inexorably towards any higher purpose.
All meaning is man-made, so make your own, and make it well.
Do not treat life as a way to pass the time until you die.
Do not try to "find yourself", you must make yourself.
Choose what you want to find meaningful and live, create, love, hate, cry, destroy, fight and die for it.
Do not let your life and your values and your actions slip easily into any mold, other that that which you create for yourself, and say with conviction, "This is who I make myself".
Do not give in to hope.
Remember that nothing you do has any significance beyond that with which you imbue it.
Whatever you do, do it for its own sake.
When the universe looks on with indifference, laugh, and shout back, "Fuck You!".
Rembember that to fight meaninglessness is futile, but fight anyway, in spite of and because of its futility.
The world may be empty of meaning, but it is a blank canvas on which to paint meanings of your own.
Live deliberately. You are free.