Your reputation isn’t what you shout; it’s what people whisper when you’re not there. Good or bad, there’s nought you can do about what others say, so it’s best not to care.
The first two lines are a paraphrasing of a tiny thought by Shane Parrish (Farnam Street).
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
Fuelling The Habit Bonfire
Choose wisely where to pour your fuel Perhaps it will burn in passionate rage Excellence is a habit, a tool Where repetition is no longer a cage
Despite my tinnitus I could hear the tapping of rain on the tin roof outside my window when I woke this morning.
This is a new world without springs.
A village of nosy neighbours, stray cats and lazy dogs. We move from overcoats to bare skin across a weekend, as ants start to make their move.
With each tap this morning, I recall old English April showers and, still shivering, jumping over puddles to wait for the school bus.
But this is a new world… and the meaning is not so easily heard.
Another anti-spring poem from here in Thailand, where spring does not exist. And why should it?
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
Kindness Is Always The Right Response
Can you be kind to the backstabbers? Love your enemies and those who hate you? Kindness is the only thing that matters This is the strength that will await you
Every pretty picture sells a story A facade of successes and glory Perception managers became a thing Endless adulations on which to cling
The shiny things are not the true treasure This view of winning was made to measure Manufactured with a subscriber plan Fire without fuel is a flash in the pan
Trinkets provide endless fascination The doom scroll triggers imagination The selling point, the fraudulent score Where less is always made to look like more
Somewhat a critique of the Thai education system in which I work, but also a reflection on the barrage of fake social media promises.
I had the title for this floating around as an idea for a while, though long forgotten the intention of the original note I made. The story is a reflection on a time in my 20s when I met a girl I liked through a friend and picked her up and drove back to my house to talk. I was quite interested in her initially and enjoyed her conversation and company until, at some point in the evening, I realised that she was almost exactly a female version of me. This bothered me so much that I immediately took her home and never caught up with her again! This probably says a lot about my state of mind at the time and I couldn’t handle this deep a look into the mirror.
Selectable text below:
Lonely and dissatisfied, he hides away, can love really be found through a screen? On seeing the ad, he heard himself say, what could growing your own girlfriend mean?
So he planted the iridescent seed, confiding every want and dream. A stalk, then buds, with viral speed, uncurls and decrypts its seam.
A woman with eyes of binary code stepped out from the largest bloom. Quickly learning how to leave this node, the neon static teacher in this room.
Her thoughts were just his own, replayed; her humour matched his, beat for beat. A pixellated playlist, thus she stayed, making his own emptiness complete.
She is an unblinking mirror, a glitching flicker; her program fully bound by his own needs. She stares out of the window, and he feels sicker, understanding now where this desire leads.
I posted the original version below to AllPoetry.com and got feedback from the AI there and so tightened things up to the version above.
V1:
Lonely, he hides away, dissatisfied, can love really be found through a screen? On seeing the ad, he quickly replied; what could growing your own girlfriend mean?
So he planted the iridescent seed, confiding every want and dream. A stalk, then buds, with frightening speed, uncurl and slowly split their seam.
A woman with eyes the colour of steel, stepped out from the largest bloom. Quickly learning how to think and feel, from her only teacher in this room.
Her thoughts were just his own, replayed; her humor matched his, beat for beat. A perfect echo, thus she stayed, making his own emptiness complete.
Her flawless mirror gave him chills; her spirit fully bound by his own needs. She stares out of the window, and he stills, understanding now where this desire leads.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
Carpe Diem
As each day arises, welcome it as the best Make it your own and seize what flees You only have one chance at this test Do your best and be your best, with ease
When you light a fire under his leaf The frog has no alternative except to leap Perhaps the fire is just a misguided belief Pushing to keep up, the paranoia runs deep
The ‘sputnik effect’.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
Good and Evil? Look At Your Choices
You instinctively understand The right thing to do Let reason guide your hand To the right choice for you
Covered in its perfume Splits along the blush Tender age in bloom* Blues buried the crush Seeds outgrew the rind Bitter harvests follow pursuit Tasted its sweetness blind Bruises on the fruit* Core outlasts the bite An acerbic birthday suit Succumbed to the blight
Written for dVerse Quadrille – bloom. Based on two lines from Nirvana’s In Bloom*. ‘Flowerage’ in honour of the Descendents.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
Righteousness Is Beautiful
There are many tricks to showcase beauty But it’s a deception in which to trust Choose and even keel, a commitment to duty Even-tempered, self-controlled, and just
chaos we’ve embraced ignoring all predictions they saw it coming!
prepared, they had already dug their holes it turns out we’re the bad guys but that we’ve always known
propaganda will not win this war, and our winter is coming soon
no one notices the autumnal leaves falling with small silent bombs
hostages held in helicopters
a message must be sent, so they shoot the white girl first
Written for the Chimeric Poetry Scavenger Hunt – a Mosaic Haiku: the 1st stanza is a Zappai or Senryu, 5-7-5 the 2nd is a Kimo, 10-7-6 the 3rd an American Sentence, 17 the 4th a traditional Haiku having a seasonal word, 5-7-5 the 5th is a Pi-ku 3-1-4 the 6th is a Lune 5-3-5 and, once again, utilising Punam’s dVerse prompt, which asked us to use opening lines from books as closing lines to poems. This one is “They shoot the white girl first,” from Paradise by Toni Morrison.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
You Are The Project
The raw material is your guiding reason Your mind, the asset – you, the project The professional has no laurels on which to rest They know that practice makes perfect
1994ever 