For every misunderstanding

A ken

The benefits of friction

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Flirting and courting with death. Smoking its fag, and tattooing its light. Wearing its skin and granting it life. Downplaying your worth, and dimming your eyes. Wearing its thrill and sporting its tights. Singing its tunes, and reading its lines. Luxuriating in its soothe and uniting its divide. Touching its wet, and thirsting its dry. Unbuttoning its dress and unstrapping its whites. Flying its jets and sailing its nights. Weaving its looms, and selling its sights. Accepting its truth and loving its lies. Using its muse, and uplifting her sighs

A cross check

One of the important things to ask oneself in verifying the practical feasibility of any intellectual pursuit, is: whether the words (which are the mosaic of symbolic representations of actual experiences) can ever translate back into experience. That is, does the contour of thought possess the shimmering immediacy and saliency of conscious access to reality? Or does it merely interface in a transitory way, losing its origin in wholeness through its isolating and recursive act? It is for this reason that there exists a modern suspicion to the entire field of philosophy