tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19785125.post114486683855731172..comments2024-01-03T07:56:32.311-05:00Comments on quaker oats live: the bell jarAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07488876505679035140noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19785125.post-1145109726987060862006-04-15T10:02:00.000-04:002006-04-15T10:02:00.000-04:00When I travelled to England to attend the WGYF for...When I travelled to England to attend the WGYF for free(as I couldn't have otherwise afforded to come and stay)I stayed at a local Friend's house at Reading. He was a psychologist and he worked with people who worked with companies or enterprises and had had a nervous breakdown.<BR/><BR/>As for Sylvia Plath, I preffer her poetry to any other thing of hers, her poetry is the best of hers, I love this particular one called the thin people. <BR/><BR/>As for breaking down, maybe it's because I am underapreciative but I can't seem to appreciate the contrast more than I appreciate the uniqueness in each individual, I love being able to relate though when it feels like a goose is shoved in your heart then it might be too much as though your expression, your tolling signaled nothing else but the fact that you've been/you're broken...then it can be quite unbearable. I still preffer the poetry though, more eclectic. I recomend this site: http://www.angelfire.com/tn/plath/<BR/><BR/>Joel picked berries for you.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19785125.post-1145032837865190802006-04-14T12:40:00.000-04:002006-04-14T12:40:00.000-04:00Reading your post made me think of Victor Frankl’s...Reading your post made me think of Victor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning. In that book, as I remember, he makes a case for maintaining hope as a means to stay sane in light of terrible circumstances. Connected to what you’ve shared, I think of the many times I was tempted to lose hope and the hopefulness of those in my community helped me hang in there. <BR/><BR/>Here’s Frankl speaking out of his experience in a WWII concentration camp.<BR/><BR/>“The prisoner who had lost faith in the future - his future - was doomed. With his loss of belief in the future, he also lost his spiritual hold; he let himself decline and became subject to mental and physical decay. Usually this happened quite suddenly, in the form of a crisis, the symptoms of which were familiar to the experienced camp inmate. We all feared this moment - not for ourselves, which would have been pointless, but for our friends. Usually it began with the prisoner refusing one morning to get dressed and wash or to go out on the parade grounds. No entreaties, no blows, no threats had any effect. He just lay there, hardly moving. If this crisis was brought about by an illness, he refused to be taken to the sick-bay or to do anything to help himself. He simply gave up. There he remained, lying in his own excreta, and nothing bothered him any more.”Paulhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09429320213684430282noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19785125.post-1144920412549511652006-04-13T05:26:00.000-04:002006-04-13T05:26:00.000-04:00All the world is mad except for me and thee, and e...All the world is mad except for me and thee, and even thee I worry about...No personal offence intended, of course. It has been fun visiting your blog, Cherice. God bless you and yours. See you at the pearly gates.<BR/>PeterAndersonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13048606424107457116noreply@blogger.com