atlashead

I get the message >I am worse than peter keating >For a moment i was Peter Kretin

But i have to leave. Hank rearden's name is Patrick Spelling

Not my story. I gave Hank Rearden his start$

$

maybe so, i don't think about myself, but it's possible that's rooted in a lie somewhere

you deserved it tyler ciche

well you have to understand that wynand breaks men FOR women. I am pursuing a woman FOR work

I'm straight male (in a three-way relationship) pursuing a third woman (one of their younger sisters) What could the kill feel like?

other guy: "You wanna talk about Horatio Algier?"

that's because it was an elicitation-very useful in asthetics. You see, every human IS different, knows different things, has different tools, and their own flavor of psychodynamics. If there's an area of your work/thinking that is dry, uninspired, try to dress her up in her best dress, do her makeup and her hair, and parade her around & see what people say (The more opinions the better) You will probably need to smoke/vape to process it, certain things can not be processed by the mind alone. Sometimes you NEED a shot of hard liquor (To concretize a subconscious thought), drawing to solve problems, smoking as insight to others' thinking. Lemon-Lime Gatorade (Cold) (Government XD) (cuts your throat) to do what I call "Cut it [the idea] with a razor"

Me, you, & the Pendulumz Pheeding i5arus (Roarzeo) BP2thaGoldum Picky d Sweetz

insert comment here

The Perfect Family is waiting for you The Perfect Vacation is waiting for you The Perfect Body is waiting for you The Perfect Romance is waiting for you

they were trying to turn me into the Atlas who didn't shrug.

These people have been trying to get me to compete architecturally-I was telling them "It can't be done" BECAUSE ARCHITECTURE IS NOT(!) art, architecture is the metaphysical projection of WORK

Thanks, yeah I'm not sure I believe that. But thanks (I saw that too)

I spend the majority of my time "looking for work", which I will engage briefly enough to make it a value or understand it, and then i put it in the vault. So I have a HUGE volume of stuff that I can pick from. Now, the morning pages. (I admit I don't do them as religiously as possible) Where you do a little sample, like an exercise, you'd write a chord progression or a plot idea, or an image (In all your work)-You'd read a section of a chemistry book, then physics. Sometimes the morning pages bleed from me, and typically I can't sit down and say, write a whole poem. I used to be able to. Throughout the years I have achieved values but then abandoned them & moved on. Like a sample platter of the good life, but never to keep. It ended where I actually used my body in a controlled overdose of a stimulant on diuretics to test if this drug is safe (I had the idea microdosing carcinogens on STIMULANTS is actually a cancer-undoer.) So I did a controlled demolition (Scary night, up for 36 hours drinking as much water as possible terrified I might get put in the mental hospital (Undoing my life's work). It all worked out. That's the thing about being PURE SELF-ESTEEM (Or PURE Morality) that it's this strange super-strong/super weak dynamic. I know almost everything about everything that I ever wanted to work on. And there WERE motivation sites, a pickup artist site called Real Social Dynamics which had a self-help section, but there's not a real self-help website (I don't really consider Objectivism self-help (more philosophy)) to stay motivated. The motivation has trickled onto the 4chan boards (But this stuff, is, like The Dean said, slow-coming, it's not a casual discussion; these changes do not come overnight (<Sounds really good :)) I have the idea of stamps, so for every creation you make you make a stamp and you post it on line (Like a little creative thing to put it through escrow), but I can't get from stopped in the morning pages because a sketch just BLED from me to actually getting in the nitty gritty (A construction gang)

If Roark had not been there, had the boy simply SEEN Monadnock he would not have obtained the courage to face a lifetime. Yes, a good achievement is of value-and the only HIGHER value is the creator's response to it.

thanks

people engaged me in a game of chicken & i had a few paths. The path I took was 100% morality and it's either going to be the courage to face a lifetime or getting impaled, this time. The final event-the climax occurs when a 8-string, fretless guitar arrives in the mail. I must not spend my money much before it comes. It's either going to save my physics, arch, & music (& peripherally biology, visual art, writing) (I only have money for workstuff left (paper)) or I will have died on the barricades the choice is already done. i ordered the guitar. i have a little money to breathe while i wait, but the jury is now in deliberation

The rectangle of light in the midst of a forest was the window of the cabin of Francisco d'Anconia. Francisco lay stretched on the floor, by the dancing tongues of a fire, bent over sheets of paper, completing the drawing of his smelter. Hank Rearden and Ellis Wyatt sat by the fireplace. "John will design the new locomotives," Rearden was saying, "and Dagny will run the first railroad between New York and Philadelphia. She—" And, suddenly, on hearing the next sentence, Francisco threw his head up and burst out laughing, a laughter of greeting, triumph and release. They could not hear the music of Halley's Fifth Concerto now flowing somewhere high above the roof, but Francisco's laughter matched its sounds. Contained in the sentence he had heard, Francisco was seeing the sunlight of spring on the open lawns of homes across the country, he was seeing the sparkle of motors, he was seeing the glow of the steel in the rising frames of new skyscrapers, he was seeing the eyes of youth looking at the future with no uncertainty or fear. The sentence Rearden had uttered was: "She will probably try to take the shirt off my back with the freight rates she's going to charge, but— I’ll be able to meet them." Francisco & Rearden turned, then froze-in a corner of the room a man they didn't even know was there rose out of a chair and walked out. Wynand said: "This was the end of the Banner....I think it’s proper that I should meet it with you. And then a man rose out of a chair whom they did not even know was in the room. Galt walked out "Who is howard roark?" he spoke

i never deserted, and now i never will!!

He had a studio, a huge, sloppy place in an old building. She noticed the change since her last visit. The room had an air of laughter, like a breath held too long and released. She saw second-hand furniture, an Oriental rug of rare texture and sensuous color, jade ash trays, pieces of sculpture that came from historical excavations, anything he had wished to seize, helped by the sudden fortune of Wynand’s patronage. The walls looked strangely bare above the gay clutter. He had bought no paintings. A single sketch hung over his studio--Roark’s original drawing of the Stoddard Temple. For instance, my dogtags, or an album I did, or the sculpture I did. Wealth is a beautiful thing

we have the tools

You know, people who aren't prime movers (Because I Am THE Prime Mover) either decided they were prime movers or were informed they were prime movers & it spread as a pandemic to people who seemingly had morality-who then decided that since they were "A prime mover [the prime mover]" that they could do no wrong. That this isn't MY reality and you're all under compulsion.