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Quote by Louise Blackwick

“Everything I’ve previously attempted in my life was child’s play compared to this. The pathway I’m walking is not just riddled with all manner of uncertainty; it’s also excruciatingly difficult to follow through! How do I know this is the right path for me, when it’s been costing me every ounce of willpower just to stay on track? How do I tell what my purpose is?’ ‘THIS is how you know it, Mario. This moment right here!’ Amanita had told him. ‘If the path you are walking feels back-breaking and steep, know you are climbing the Mountain of Purpose. The more you sacrifice on your journey, the more valuable its end reward.”

Quote by Louise Blackwick

Book:The Underworld Rhapsody
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The Underworld Rhapsody

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Louise Blackwick

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“So you put me through all this suffering just to taunt me?’ ‘Humans suffer because they take seriously that which we create for entertainment.’ ‘Oh really? Because let me tell you, I wasn’t the least bit entertained!’ ‘That’s because you were not being entertained, Mr Fantoccio, you were being enlightened,’ stated the Mistress through a pair of foggy eyes. ‘You want to know why painting never worked for you? Because painters are creators and you, Mr Fantoccio, are an overseer. You don’t care about setting up the puppet show; you are merely interested in giving it a good ending. For you, Mr Fantoccio, creating the world was never enough; you aspire to run it. With every breath, you want to shape it. With every choice, you need to control it.”

Free WillDeterminismAngels And DemonsPsychedelicsIndividuationLouise Blackwick QuotesJungian ArchetypesThe Underworld RhapsodyPuppets On StringsStage And Performance
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“To explain the metamorphosis that takes place in the process of recovery from addiction, we have to wait for that physiological change to occur -you can’t rush it, it will happen in its own time. Imagine trying to teach a caterpillar how to fly. The poor thing might listen, take flight lessons, watch butterflies darting around. But no matter how hard it tries, it won’t fly. Maybe we get frustrated because we know this whole day has it in him to become a butterfly. So we give him books to read, try to counsel him, scold him, punish him, threaten him, maybe even toss him up in the air and watch his flap his little legs before crashing back to earth. The miracle takes time, we must be patient. But just as it is natural and normal for caterpillars to become butterflies, So can we expect addicted individuals, given the appropriate care and compassion, to be transformed in the recovery process. The metamorphosis is nothing short of miraculous, as people who are desperately sick are restored to health and a “normal” state of being. So don’t sit around feeling sorry for yourself, be grateful that you have a disease from which you can make a full recovery.”

AddictionAddiction And RecoveryAddiction RecoveryAddiction MemoirsTeenage Addiction
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“Writing Saving My Sister was by far the most difficult yet meaningful and rewarding experience of my life,” comments author Nicole Woodruff. “After losing my sister, Amanda, to a fentanyl overdose in June 2019, I was determined to make her story matter and bring meaning to this horrible tragedy. So many families lose loved ones to this disease but often suffer in silence or feel ashamed to speak up due to addiction’s stigma. My goal with this book is to reduce this stigma, bring greater awareness to these stories, and ultimately help people in similar situations to mine know they are not alone,” continues Woodruff.”

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“The bottom line was, if I could outsmart the judicial/legal system, then I could keep my addiction. But was that really what I wanted? Here I am, talking about my addiction as if it were some small and innocent pet, something that merited my unconditional affection. Wasn’t it tearing my life apart?”

AddictionAddiction And RecoveryAddiction MemoirsThe SystemLoving That Which Kills Us
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“And drugs, drugs weren’t the problem. They were the only thing that made the pain quiet. They were routine. Ritual. Language. They gave rhythm to the day. They kept the ghosts at bay. They made it easier to laugh, to cry, to forget. They were the thing we had in common when nothing else made sense. I didn’t start using because I wanted to destroy myself. I started because I already felt destroyed. Drugs gave me something to belong to. A pattern. A purpose. A pause button on the chaos in my chest. And once it became a lifestyle, it was hard to imagine anything else.”

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“That you do not have to like a person in order to learn from him/her/it. That loneliness is not a function of solitude. That it is possible to get so angry you really do see everything red. What a ‘Texas Catheter’ is. That some people really do steal—will steal things that are yours. That a lot of U.S. adults truly cannot read, not even a ROM hypertext phonics thing with HELP functions for every word. That cliquey alliance and exclusion and gossip can be forms of escape. That logical validity is not a guarantee of truth. That evil people never believe they are evil, but rather that everyone else is evil. That it is possible to learn valuable things from a stupid person. That it takes effort to pay attention to any one stimulus for more than a few seconds. That you can all of a sudden out of nowhere want to get high with your Substance so bad that you think you will surely die if you don’t, and but can just sit there with your hands writhing in your lap and face wet with craving, can want to get high but instead just sit there, wanting to but not, if that makes sense, and if you can gut it out and not hit the Substance during the craving the craving will eventually pass, it will go away — at least for a while. That it is statistically easier for low‐IQ people to kick an addiction than it is for high‐IQ people.”

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“Look north, he said, In the middle of that vast plain is a single lonely peak. In the light of the setting sun you can just make out the ruins of A-fang-kung, the palace of the great Ch'in Shih-huang, among the weeds and the high grass. Look west. The wind is rustling the woods where the gray mountain mist hides Mou-ling, the tomb of Emperor Han Wu-ti. In the east you can see the white wall reflecting the green hills where a red rooftop pierces the sky and the pale moon comes and goes. No one leans on the on the jade balustrades at Huang-ch'ing-kung where Emperor Hsuan Tsung frolicked with his ill-fated concubine Yang Kue-fei. Those three emperors were for ten millennia the heroes of our history. Where are they now? [Fenkl translation]”

PhilosophyWisdomTruthSimplicityAsianKoreanKim ManjungNine Cloud DreamFenkl
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