Where's your will to be weird?
Jim MorrisonRead
Do you know how pale & wanton thrillful comes death on a strange hour unannounced, unplanned for like a scaring over-friendly guest you've brought to bed Death makes angels of us all & gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as raven's claws
Interpretation
This quote reflects on the unpredictable and transformative nature of death, suggesting that it elevates our existence despite its frightening surprise.
Jim Morrison's quote presents death as a sudden and uninvited occurrence that arrives unexpectedly, comparing it to an unsettling guest. He emphasizes that death changes our essence, transforming us from beings with mundane physicality ('smooth as raven's claws') into something angelic, suggesting a profound, spiritual elevation which challenges our preconceived notions about mortality and existence.
In practice
This quote can be shared during a discussion about the unpredictability of life and death.
Where's your will to be weird?
I can make the earth stop in its tracks. I made the blue cars go away. I can make myself invisible or small. I can become gigantic & reach the farthest things. I can change the course of nature. I can place myself anywhere in space or time. I can summon the dead. I can perceive events on other worlds, in my deepest inner mind, & in the minds of others. I can I am
In the holy solipsism of the young Now I can't walk thru a city street w/out eying each single pedestrian. I feel thier vibe thru my skin, the hair on my neck --- it rises.
Sex is full of lies. The body tries to tell the truth. But, it's usually too battered with rules to be heard, and bound with pretenses so it can hardly move. We cripple ourselves with lies.
I think the highest and lowest points are the important ones. Anything else is just...in between.
I am interested in anything about revolt, disorder, chaos-especially activity that seems to have no meaning. It seems to me to be the road toward freedom... Rather than starting inside, I start outside and reach the mental through the physical.
He who treasures his body as much as the world can care for the world.
My days among the dead are passed; Around me I behold, Where'er these casual eyes are cast, The mighty minds of old; My never-failing friends are they, With whom I converse day by day.
The trouble with her is that she lacks the power of conversation but not the power of speech.
Unless one always speaks the truth, one cannot find God Who is the soul of truth.
Cursed be the verse, how well so e'er it flow, That tends to make one worthy man my foe.
I draw from the Absurd three consequences: my revolt, my liberty, my passion.
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