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mind entropy of the ethiofrican

1 hasab

18 September, 2007 | 5 comments | Category: thinking...

once you find a truth that inflames you, cling to it for dear life! after all is said and done “we are all trying to be real.”

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5 comments to “1 hasab”

Alpha, September 18th, 2007 at 5:58 pm:

  • how does one try to be real? should that come naturally?? :P

tpeace, September 18th, 2007 at 8:03 pm:

  • hahhaha… touche Alphy!…
    u made me think…cos the quote made no sense with ur question. i think the “we are all trying to be real” quote, by some person i don’t even remeber is supposed to imply that…we are all trying to be without our masks- to be who we truly are, to complete our search of our real identities. This would be without the different roleplays as we face life (acting as student, child, parent, worker, whatever…). so our search to be real is to simply be me – without fronting, or role playing in this play we call life…it is very possible that I’m just rambling right now!! haha…but it made me think when i read it… there’s also the philosophy of ‘African’ masks which i think is about these ideas… and its also about our pusuits for a purpose in life…

Independence & Preservatives « |y?hasab s?nduQ|, September 20th, 2007 at 11:56 pm:

  • [...] with them, they see me raw; in ways where i trust them with my most insecure quirks- where i take my mask off completely and let my guard down….allowing us to build immesurably valuable and strong connections. The [...]

Alpha, October 2nd, 2007 at 5:01 pm:

  • I get it now…..and it makes so much sense that way….
    but I believe that is the hardest thing to achieve……

    I don’t know if you familiar with the book “THE MADMAN”….. but here is a chapter (a few lines)….your description of “trying to be real” reminded me of that book…….anywho….hope you enjoy it
    http://leb.net/gibran/works/madman/madman1.html

tpeace, October 2nd, 2007 at 11:10 pm:

  • wow! love it!..how’s the book?

    “You ask me how I became a madman. It happened thus: One day, long before many gods were born, I woke from a deep sleep and found all my masks were stolen — the seven masks I have fashioned and worn in seven lives — I ran maskless through the crowded streets shouting, “Thieves, thieves, the cursed thieves.”
    Men and women laughed at me and some ran to their houses in fear of me.
    And when I reached the market place, a youth standing on a house-top cried, “He is a madman.” I looked up to behold him; the sun kissed my own naked face for the first time. For the first time the sun kissed my own naked face and my soul was inflamed with love for the sun, and I wanted my masks no more. And as if in a trance I cried, “Blessed, blessed are the thieves who stole my masks.”
    Thus I became a madman.
    And I have found both freedom and safety in my madness; the freedom of loneliness and the safety from being understood, for those who understand us enslave something in us.
    But let me not be too proud of my safety. Even a Thief in a jail is safe from another thief. “

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