The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation. From the desperate city you go into the desperate country, and have to console yourself with the bravery of minks and muskrats. A stereotyped but unconscious despair is concealed even under what are called the games and amusements of mankind. There is no play in them, for this comes after work. But it is a characteristic of wisdom not to do desperate things.

— Henry David Thoreau

Tomrum's journey ends here

I hope you have appreciated what has been posted here throughout years.

Tomrum will remain a sensation, a feeling, no longer a telegram channel.

Thank you all, may the wind always be at your back and the sun upon your face. And may the wings of destiny carry you aloft to dance with the stars.


feel free to leave.

But then comes a time when forgetting isn't possible. And I do mean a particular time when no amount of dreaming, not then and maybe not ever, can change how naked and unimportant we become in our own eyes.

I feel like the so called bad guys are never totally bad. I guess it’s the closest thing I can do to reality: people act nice but nobody really is nice. We all have to balance that with something dark. How we balance it is what makes something interesting…My character in “La Haine,” he’s not bad, he’s unhappy and usually people are like that. Most of us are angry. Maybe one day I’ll play Buddha.

Laughing at the universe liberated my life. I escape its weight by laughing. I refuse any intellectual translations of this laughter, since my slavery would commence from that point on.

My heartbeat has reached the epitome of rottenness; It is no longer part of my heart. Time for the shadows to come and grab me by the brain. Dearest, I am asking you again: Just how far is the sky?

I can see where
creation often
stops while the
body still lives
and often
does not care
to.

The death of life
before life
dies.
I can see where
creation often
stops while the
body still lives
and often
does not care
to.

the death of life
before life
dies.

The first 365 days of the year are always the hardest

I live in a kind of tension between the will to say yes to my suffering, and my inability to utter this yes with complete sincerity.

Fortunately, some are born with spiritual immune systems that sooner or later give rejection to the illusory worldview grafted upon them from birth through social conditioning. They begin sensing that something is amiss, and start looking for answers. Inner knowledge and anomalous outer experiences show them a side of reality others are oblivious to, and so begins their journey of awakening.

And yet the slightest attempt to convert any meaningful idea (*of one’s own*—this is the main thing) into words leads inevitably to the thesis: for pure thought, all human languages are foreigners.

Betrayal. We betray to be loyal. Betrayal is like imagining when the reality isn’t good enough... betrayal as hope and compensation. As the making of a better life. Betrayal as love. As a tribute to our unlived lives... betrayal as escape. As a constructive act. As a statement of ideals. Worship. As an adventure of the soul. Betrayal as travel. How can we discover new places if we never leave home? You were my Promised Land, Poppy. You gave my lies a reason.