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Friday, September 22, 2017

Diary of a Death Poet 22 — Refusal of India

 

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Like I said in the previous entry, the years in India and Nepal were something that I never stopped romanticizing. I think that the disabling years that came after my return in mid-2004, were a time in which I wasn’t perceiving things correctly and I overvalued everything I let behind as a means to grow distant from my past in the west and from the western take on life and reality.

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Diary of a Death Poet 21 — A Boon of Simplicty

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I titled this entry A Boon of Simplicity, because to cut all ties with India, and not having to consider it in my life or reality again, I feel that I simplified my life, greatly.

Years on The Road

The years I spent in India and Nepal where the last stages of my psychological maturing. I don’t think they were really “spent” as the things I did, thought and felt were things that I could hardly expect to live in Occident.

Mainly, they were things that shaped my personality in a way that couldn’t have been shaped if I were to pass those years in Occident.

Thursday, September 7, 2017

Diary of a Death Poet 20 – Apotheosis of Flattering

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What I’m going to explore in this post is known as either of these:

  • Matrixing
  • Apophenia
  • Pareidolia
  • Overfitting
  • Confirmation Bias

Like I said elsewhere, and as I revealed here, the enthusiasm I needed to make a mere private fancy into a four-volume poetic work was produced by an ongoing interepretation of symbols that followed a constant pattern.

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

Diary of a Death Poet 19 – Entering The Potbellies of Bengali Death

Lotus Park

Like I alerady wrote in part 15 I had to learn the bad way how material bagagge is detrimental to one’s existence.

This post is about what happened and how I felt in Bengal in 2013, when I went to the place I was renting, to retrieve my two chests full of stuf…

I want to explore not only my bad attitudes towards material things but also the bad actions of others.

Saturday, August 19, 2017

Diary of a Death Poet 18 – Death of Education

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Boring Education

 

Ten years ago, in 2007, I was studying—home-schooling—to finish my long-drawn fight with secondary school; something with which I couldn’t cope when I was of proper age to have finished high-school.

If I didn’t make a mess of my secondary education, I’d have finished high-school at seventeen years old. Probably I’d have gone to college at nineteen and would be a cog of the system by my twenty-fourth or twenty-fifth year of age.