The 8 qualities of cultured people (according to Anton Chekhov)

They respect human personality, and therefore they are always kind, gentle, polite, and ready to give in to others. They do not make a row because of a hammer or a lost piece of india-rubber; if they live with anyone they do not regard it as a favour and, going away, they do not say “nobody can live with you.” They forgive noise and cold and dried-up meat and witticisms and the presence of strangers in their homes.

They have sympathy not for beggars and cats alone. Their heart aches for what the eye does not see…. They sit up at night in order to help P…., to pay for brothers at the University, and to buy clothes for their mother.

They respect the property of others, and therefor pay their debts.

They are sincere, and dread lying like fire. They don’t lie even in small things. A lie is insulting to the listener and puts him in a lower position in the eyes of the speaker. They do not pose, they behave in the street as they do at home, they do not show off before their humbler comrades. They are not given to babbling and forcing their uninvited confidences on others. Out of respect for other people’s ears they more often keep silent than talk.

They do not disparage themselves to rouse compassion. They do not play on the strings of other people’s hearts so that they may sigh and make much of them. They do not say “I am misunderstood,” or “I have become second-rate,” because all this is striving after cheap effect, is vulgar, stale, false….

They have no shallow vanity. They do not care for such false diamonds as knowing celebrities, shaking hands with the drunken P.,  listening to the raptures of a stray spectator in a picture show, being renowned in the taverns…. If they do a pennyworth they do not strut about as though they had done a hundred roubles’ worth, and do not brag of having the entry where others are not admitted…. The truly talented always keep in obscurity among the crowd, as far as possible from advertisement…. Even Krylov has said that an empty barrel echoes more loudly than a full one.

If they have a talent they respect it. They sacrifice to it rest, women, wine, vanity…. They are proud of their talent…. Besides, they are fastidious.

They develop the aesthetic feeling in themselves. They cannot go to sleep in their clothes, see cracks full of bugs on the walls, breathe bad air, walk on a floor that has been spat upon, cook their meals over an oil stove. They seek as far as possible to restrain and ennoble the sexual instinct…. What they want in a woman is not a bed-fellow … They do not ask for the cleverness which shows itself in continual lying. They want especially, if they are artists, freshness, elegance, humanity, the capacity for motherhood…. They do not swill vodka at all hours of the day and night, do not sniff at cupboards, for they are not pigs and know they are not. They drink only when they are free, on occasion…. For they wantmens sana in corpore sano [a healthy mind in a healthy body].

The Invisible Fortress

It’s a simple pleasure missed,

Something only the lucky few ever obtain;

Spiritual bliss.

To find this, ironically can be maddening,

Yet, not seeking it would cause a most violent affair.

An internal struggle between the duality of mind and soul,

‘What is my purpose? Is it to be daring and bold?’

Searching amongst the stars for an answer, yet limited by the perception of mind.

Oh what it would be like,

To be a traveler of both space and time.

Spiritual bliss,

The Universe in you, and you in it,

Drunk off its galactic wine.

The portals opened ever expanding,

Waiting ever so patiently for you to dine.

The answers to some may ever be so clear,

But upon musings, clarity of such just brings tumultuous fear.

Can one ever really drink the Universe and its ale

And still think that what of they know to be real?

My mind is ever fuller of questions than answers,

That of which I am content.

For I feel that if I knew the answers (if ever there were),

I’d feel as though my existence would be blurred.

So I sit and I ponder and rhyme,

Whilst the Universe

Beckons

“I’m waiting for you to dine.’’

Charlie :) 

New playlist: Chill the funk out

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The Disillusionment of Reality

It’s been a while since I blogged, much less wrote anything besides poetry. I think maybe the reason why I've been writing poems incessantly is because they are a means of expressing myself without being too direct. However, even though I have a million thoughts racing through my mind, I’ve decided to talk about the culture that we live in today. 

What’s so wrong about it? What’s so great about it? What drives us, what hinders us, what scares us, what makes us all inspired?

And I’m not going to answer any. Why? Merely because I can’t. Why can’t I? Well…because I think it’s a situation all so complex that if I were to actually wrap my brain around it, I may actually delve into maddening depths.

So then what’s the point of this introduction?

Why all the questions?

It’s because we all have them, at some point or another. We all find ourselves in that inexplicable moment away from the crowds and lost in our thoughts, wondering what makes us different from the ‘them’. Wondering what exactly is our purpose….

Does a purpose actually EVEN exist? Yes that’s arguable but if it doesn’t exist, then WHY NOT???
You see, what I’ve come to realize is that there’s two sorts of persons. There’s person A who believes steadfast in life’s purpose, and about whether there is one or not whilst person B continues questioning.  What’s so different about these two apart from the obviously stated? Well for one, it may seem bias of me to say but I believe that it’s quite dangerous to be so comfortable in your personal belief about life’s purpose and I say this for many reasons. Firstly, the world in which we live in is subject to the individual. The way you glimpse at life is your reality as seen through your eyes and shaped by your idiosyncrasies. This subjectivity means that therefore everyone in this world sees their own reality; the universe being something as a reflection of one’s thoughts and experiences.

Taken in a cultural context, one can start to see my point shape up. In the Catholic faith, one’s purpose is to live through Christ’s teachings and idealistically be rewarded for such or otherwise be placed in purgatory for our sins. In some minor portion of the Islam faith, the rewards of following Allah are the promise of virgins after life.  The Hindus believe that the last breath yields the first of another life or re-incarnation as it is so called. These are all examples of what is expected after death and hence the end result. The reason I highlight this is because people question life’s purpose based on what they believe the end result is going to be. Say for example, if one knows without a doubt that upon death that he will be rewarded with treasures beyond his wildest belief, then his questioning of life’s purpose may be somewhere along the line of, “Surely I must do good things to get this reward. This is the way to get it”. This is akin to what religion offers us; divine intervention for a life of doing good.

What about the Nihilist who differently but steadfastly believes that there is no purpose to life? The Atheist who believes in no God and hence no reason for our existence? To me, they all seem absolutely sure that what they believe is correct and are all persona Type A.

So now, what about person B??  The one who from whatever background in life, be it religiously, socially, economically or what have you. This is the person who objectively views the Universe. But then how does this person do this? This person sounds like a scientist, you proclaim.

I then proceed to tell you that a scientist need not be exclusive to this group. Exclusive to this group is person B ; someone who looks outward beyond themselves..someone who says ‘Hey, something isn’t right. ‘ With all the complexities of humans on such stratospheric levels, it is easy to get lost amongst the groups that you are affiliated with, be it your political party, your religion, your community, nationality etc. You identify within some sort of social atmosphere and strata. However, there is always that one person who sticks out their head amongst the crowd and realizes that their train of thoughts is influenced by that of society. Essentially our meaning of life comes from what our society tells us it is. Hence, detachment from society, isolation if you will, comes a great connection to the Universe as never experienced before.  You suddenly realize that your subconscious and the Universe are one; you and the Universe are one.  Your brother and sister are all connected to these threads linking us all throughout the globe in inexplicable webs etching towards our centers with the notion that we are all ONE and the SAME..despite complicated and variable backgrounds.

So then, person B, you ask yourself, what is the purpose of life?

Why were we born?
Why at that exact moment were we conceived?
Why were our DNA construed to produce us the way we are despite the almost infinite others that could have been created? WHY? WHY? WHY?

Person B may never know…but the questions will never stop.

-Charlie

The Beauty of Melancholy

Sadness dissipates and with it,

Comes the realization that life goes on.

Time ticks and time tocks

Slowly washing over you is the beauty of melancholy

A feeling like no other.

The pain, the paradoxical joy of suffering

Suddenly is evident to you. 

There is no elation if one knows not of suffering

This is assuring and as true that there is no wind without air,

Sea without water and courage without fear.

~Charlie 

New playlist

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“All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream in the dark recesses of the night awake in the day to find all was vanity. But the dreamers of day are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, and make it possible.” 

~ T.E. Lawrence