Sayings of Rabbi Elohim

Reads: 124  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
I am describing some intellectual thoughts which I gathered from my random and scattered reading of texts.

Submitted: March 16, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 16, 2016

A A A

A A A


In the centre of the Book there’s a great hole, a fathomable one that signifies an absence.

I will do a favor to God by freeing his hand and writing my name in the Book of Life.

Speech! Don’t subdue the voice that writes.

The book that calls out Heaven is a Hell too.

My inner time is a marriage of thoughts.

You can destruct structure to chaos and also mould a meaning that’s creative.

Meaning is an orgasm when it’s saturated.

Is there a mystery in God’s Voice? There’s nothing lurking.

You are God when you are playing with meaning.

Discourse of the book is penetration; dialogue is oral and floral.

If the book has to yield to me, I have to storm into a battle of interpretations.

The closure of the Book is death and the beginning of an opening to life is writing.

I cajoled her book and she opened her text to me; it became a flower of becoming, intensely, poetic, lyrical and blossoming.

Playing with signification is Eros; succumbing to signification is Thanatos.

If I yield to the book, I become death.

I am never in the poverty of words, thoughts or feelings.

In the world there’s a confirming majority and a creative minority.

Solitude is never silent; it’s a labyrinth of creative thoughts.

Convenientialism is a post post modern philosophy. Anything and everything goes with it.

There’s no truth to knowing: There’s only an experience to existence.

I have to fictionalize my novel into the art of an aesthetic experience, akin to abstract painting and fugal music.

To make love to a woman is like painting and composing music.

 

Eros is the urge to tune to the ID and to compose music.

A woman is an edifying flower of meanings.

Temptation, I have made you permissive with freedom.

In the beginning was the word: in the now it’s a human reading and deconstructing it.

The cops of Bangalore have been beasts to me. They are the meanest bastards I have come across.

I don’t give a life to God; in the end I die. Yes, there’s writing remaining immortal.

I am never in the poverty of words, thoughts or feelings.

 

Forbidden as meaning, is legalistic, medicinal and political.  You can subvert it in post modernism.

Knowing or experiencing meaning is transcendence

If Wisdom is Godly then enjoying its meaning is being earthly.

I cannot forgive or forget; I am like the Devil to repay my debts.


© Copyright 2017 anandbose. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

More Non-Fiction Articles

Booksie 2017-2018 Short Story Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by anandbose

Dusk

Poem / Non-Fiction

Raven

Poem / Non-Fiction

Museaphors

Article / Non-Fiction

Popular Tags