Without sensibility no object would be given to us, without understanding no object would be thought. Thoughts without content are empty, intuitions without concepts are blind.
Words are spilling out like endless rain into a paper cup, they slither while they pass. They slip away across the universe... Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting thorough my open mind possessing and caressing me..
i dont know whats it really about, but i kinda like it
Without sensibility no object would be given to us, without understanding no object would be thought. Thoughts without content are empty, intuitions without concepts are blind.
I like it, although I feel as though it is a bit redundant as to things people have been saying for years, it's kind of nice at the same time...
Words are spilling out like endless rain into a paper cup, they slither while they pass. They slip away across the universe... Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting thorough my open mind possessing and caressing me..
10/10 is that me? it reminds me of me...yeah im a virgin...go me...
Without sensibility no object would be given to us, without understanding no object would be thought. Thoughts without content are empty, intuitions without concepts are blind.
"The mark of your ignorance is the depth of your belief in injustice and tragedy. What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Master calls the butterfly." ~ Richard Bach
We get off to the rhythm of the trigger and destruction. Fallujah to New Orleans with impunity to kill. We are the hidden fist of the free market.
We are the ink, we are the quill.
[The Ink And The Quill (Be Afraid) - Anti-Flag]
