Stalno se nešto žalimo, a itekako umijemo da banjarimo :)
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Stalno se nešto žalimo, a itekako umijemo da banjarimo :)
Next level by Blue [emoji16]Quote:
Originally Posted by Bluemoon
https://www.instagram.com/reel/DY7Q7...Z0aGZwbnFpcXh6
A ne zalimo se, ali doookleee pitam [emoji3526]
Šta dokle? Da unaprijeđujemo sebe? [emoji4]
Da ne mozemo da se odmorimo u medjuvremenu hehehh
Priznaj da si se prepao da ne osvaneš u Vijesti u sky prepisci[emoji1787]Quote:
Originally Posted by nicky
Stra' guz'ci nekad qurca suvog ostavlja
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Kakav odmor, od čega, naroda? Mijenjaj nešto, kakav odmor...
Hahahah. Ko se boji bolje stoji :joy::joy:Quote:
Originally Posted by joni
Slabašna ti je mašta to je zato što slabo sanjaš i guraš snove u zapećak.Quote:
Originally Posted by Caesar
Ali, star..
https://youtu.be/aU9YJgQrKwc?si=XGhwqKCaCJ26s-Tl
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Ada ne guram samo sam rekao da je mali broj snova materijal za psihoanalizu. Čak i kad pacijent ide kod psihologa/psihijatra potrebno je dosta vremena tipa par godina da ide da bi mozda izletio po koji važan san. Inače psihoanaliza je prilicno zaludna stvar jer bas treba puno vremena i vjestine i posvecenosti od psihijatra a to se ne desava ne samo zato sto nema psihijatara nego je prvenstveno malo pacijenata sa takvom odlucnoscu da istraju. Ovo je mislim Jung rekao a cim sam ja rekao mora da sam od njega to usvojio. Tako je bar do sad bilo.Quote:
Originally Posted by Bluemoon
Elem, u svijetlu tvojih traganja i precestog analiziranja snova pokusao sam sa onim linkom da ti kazem da sve sto ces tim premotavanjem snova dobiti je next level of hell.
Kakva psihoanaliza susret sa Sopstvom.
I Senkom.Mnogo si ti prešao na Frojda. [emoji1787]
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Sanjah kako mi je neko izbušio gume na biciklu, a taman sam planirala da na njemu dočekam zoru ujutru, i nadalje.
Sve znam :angry:
Nijednog sna se od sinoć ne sjećam pokvari me ovaj @Caesar.
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"Da parafraziramo poznatu i kasnu misao Sigmunda Frojda: Snovi su kraljevski put u nesvesno; ili misao Džona Rožena: Šizofrenija je kraljvski put u nesvesno; pa kažemo: Konflik je kraljevski put iz nesvesnog, preko svesnog u nadsvesno, onda u sva tri slučaja treba reći da, ako su snovi, bolest i konflikt neophodni kvasac da bi neko testo uskislo, onda će i od testa zavisiti kako će kvasac delovati a, naravno, i od onoga koji mesi hleb sa kvascem." Vladeta Jerotić
Između ostalog sanjah @starwalker tvoje ime ispisano ćirilicom u jednoj matičnoj knjizi rođenih.
Baj d vej ne znam tvoje pravo ime.Tako da je to tvoje ime u mom snu.
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Muke, veli, naskolike :)
Nisu imam matičnu knjigu rođenih đe star u nekoj dimenziji X.Okle muke :joy:
Slatke, bre! <3
https://i.postimg.cc/dVp8WxqN/RDT-20...9493486139.jpgQuote:
Originally Posted by Bluemoon
Ne zanima te koje ime ti je bilo? :) Mislim da bi se iznenadio. :)Quote:
Originally Posted by starwalker
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Hajde pošto je to samo san, jednostavno san.Bila je ta velika knjiga i otvorila se na stranicu gdje si ti i prelijepim ćiriličnim slovima mislim onim krasnopisom je pisalo Nemanja.
Ne pamtim inače iskreno da sam išta uvrnutije sanjala. :joy:
Ocekivao sam Zvezdan da ces reci :D
Ja ništa nisam očekivala zato su moji snovi i posebni. :)Quote:
Originally Posted by nicky
A i predsjednik spavanje sam pila neki slovački vinjak [emoji1787]
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Pretpostavljam da je predsjednik autocorrect
Ja samo velim što sam sanjala.Quote:
Originally Posted by nicky
Bilo je upečatljivo. :) I bilo je (meni) prelijepo. :)
Mislim osjećaj u snu. :)
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Mislio sam da si htjela da napises 'a i pred spavanje sam pila neki slovacki vinjak' :D
Jesam možda je utical9 ko zna.Ali..
Potpuno je nebitno kako se @starwalker zove bitnije je što to ime koje sam sanjala nosi sa sobom.
"Nemanja je nestašan, energičan, miran, autentičan, nadaren, jasan i angažiran."
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Ma da jes...jebeni autokorekt ali je ispalo kul predsjedavaći u snove. [emoji1787]Quote:
Originally Posted by nicky
Ali san je bio a ja ozbiljno bacam kartu na snove prilično upečatljiv. :)
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Jedete li strudle od maka?
Hodnici..hodnici..hodnici.
I onda u međuhodniku prostorije đe su ljudi iz prošlosti.Koji su samo u snu živi.
Vazda se sjetim ove scene.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QUYKSWQmkrg
Sinoć iako više aktera najveći naboj je bio na vožnju.Prva je bila kroz Podgoricu gdje vladao apsolutni mrak da se jedva vidjelo kuda se prolazi.I ona pustara kao za vrijeme korone.
Drugi negdje u Srbiji mislim da je Jug.
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https://uploads.tapatalk-cdn.com/202...f60aa5444e.jpg
"Zašto smo pristali na iluziju da je realno samo ono što vidimo i dotaknemo?
Svake noći, dok spavamo, naša svijest dokazuje suprotno. Sanjamo prostore u kojima nikada nismo bili, osjećamo emocije, primamo poruke...i sve to bez upotrebe očiju, ušiju ili ruku. Pa ipak, čim zazvoni alarm, vratimo se u ram od 5 čula i pravimo se da ništa od toga ne postoji.
Iskustva u dubokim meditacijama, rad sa prirodnim medicinama, ili onaj neobjašnjivi osjećaj, kada uđete u neku staru šumu i potpunu tišinu - sve su to podsjetnici da je svijet oko nas življi i slojevitiji, nego što nam djeluje na prvi pogled.
Geomantija je drevna, a danas prijeko potrebna vještina:
Kako te suptilne nivoe svijesti spuštiti na Zemlju i primijeniti ih u svakodnevnom životu.
Kako razumjeti šta ti poručuje komad zemlje na kom živiš? Kako se povezati sa inteligencijom biljaka, kamenja i prirodnih elemenata?"
Pa istina što vidimo očima je samo djelić realnosti.Gruba materijalna energija.
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Slabo osjećamo, jer smo budni uglavnom van sebe.
Ne sjecam se da sam ikad vidio svoju sijenku u snu :D
Ne znam kako bi izgledala ta druga dimenzija da joj ukines culo vida ili sluha.. Postavljao sam nedje pasus od Hellen Keller (gluvonijema od nepune 2g), mozda i ovdje da ostavim. Kako bi ova osoba sanjala?
The World I Live In, by Helen Keller
Before my teacher came to me, I did not know that I am. I lived in a world that was a no-world. I cannot hope to describe adequately that unconscious, yet conscious time of nothingness. I did not know that I knew aught, or that I lived or acted or desired. I had neither will nor intellect. I was carried along to objects and acts by a certain blind natural impetus. I had a mind which caused me to feel anger, satisfaction, desire. These two facts led those about me to suppose that I willed and thought. I can remember all this, not because I knew that it was so, but because I have tactual memory. It enables me to remember that I never contracted my forehead in the act of thinking. I never viewed anything beforehand or chose it. I also recall tactually the fact that never in a start of the body or a heart-beat did I feel that I loved or cared for anything. My inner life, then, was a blank without past, present, or future, without hope or anticipation, without wonder or joy or faith.
It was not night—it was not day.
. . . . .
But vacancy absorbing space,
And fixedness, without a place;
There were no stars—no earth—no time—
No check—no change—no good—no crime.
My dormant being had no idea of God or immortality, no fear of death.
I remember, also through touch, that I had a power of association. I felt tactual jars like the stamp of a foot, the opening of a window or its closing, the slam of a door. After repeatedly smelling rain and feeling the discomfort of wetness, I acted like those about me: I ran to shut the window. But that was not thought in any sense. It was the same kind of association that makes animals take shelter from the rain. From the same instinct of aping others, I folded the clothes that came from the laundry, and put mine away, fed the turkeys, sewed bead-eyes on my doll's face, and did many other things of which I have the tactual remembrance. When I wanted anything I liked,—ice-cream, for instance, of which I was very fond,—I had a delicious taste on my tongue (which, by the way, I never have now), and in my hand I felt the turning of the freezer. I made the sign, and my mother knew I wanted ice-cream. I "thought" and desired in my fingers. If I had made a man, I should certainly have put the brain and soul in his finger-tips. From reminiscences like these I conclude that it is the opening of the two faculties, freedom of will, or choice, and rationality, or the power of thinking from one thing to another, which makes it possible to come into being first as a child, afterwards as a man.
Since I had no power of thought, I did not compare one mental state with another. So I was not conscious of any change or process going on in my brain when my teacher began to instruct me. I merely felt keen delight in obtaining more easily what I wanted by means of the finger motions she taught me. I thought only of objects, and only objects I wanted. It was the turning of the freezer on a larger scale. When I learned the meaning of "I" and "me" and found that I was something, I began to think. Then consciousness first existed for me. Thus it was not the sense of touch that brought me knowledge. It was the awakening of my soul that first rendered my senses their value, their cognizance of objects, names, qualities, and properties. Thought made me conscious of love, joy, and all the emotions. I was eager to know, then to understand, afterward to reflect on what I knew and understood, and the blind impetus, which had before driven me hither and thither at the dictates of my sensations, vanished forever.
I cannot represent more clearly than any one else the gradual and subtle changes from first impressions to abstract ideas. But I know that my physical ideas, that is, ideas derived from material objects, appear to me first an idea similar to those of touch. Instantly they pass into intellectual meanings. Afterward the meaning finds expression in what is called "inner speech." When I was a child, my inner speech was inner spelling. Although I am even now frequently caught spelling to myself on my fingers, yet I talk to myself, too, with my lips, and it is true that when I first learned to speak, my mind discarded the finger-symbols and began to articulate. However, when I try to recall what some one has said to me, I am conscious of a hand spelling into mine.
It has often been asked what were my earliest impressions of the world in which I found myself. But one who thinks at all of his first impressions knows what a riddle this is. Our impressions grow and change unnoticed, so that what we suppose we thought as children may be quite different from what we actually experienced in our childhood. I only know that after my education began the world which came within my reach was all alive. I spelled to my blocks and my dogs. I sympathized with plants when the flowers were *****d, because I thought it hurt them, and that they grieved for their lost blossoms. It was two years before I could be made to believe that my dogs did not understand what I said, and I always apologized to them when I ran into or stepped on them.
As my experiences broadened and deepened, the indeterminate, poetic feelings of childhood began to fix themselves in definite thoughts. Nature—the world I could touch—was folded and filled with myself. I am inclined to believe those philosophers who declare that we know nothing but our own feelings and ideas. With a little ingenious reasoning one may see in the material world simply a mirror, an image of permanent mental sensations. In either sphere self-knowledge is the condition and the limit of our consciousness. That is why, perhaps, many people know so little about what is beyond their short range of experience. They look within themselves—and find nothing! Therefore they conclude that there is nothing outside themselves, either.
However that may be, I came later to look for an image of my emotions and sensations in others. I had to learn the outward signs of inward feelings. The start of fear, the suppressed, controlled tensity of pain, the beat of happy muscles in others, had to be perceived and compared with my own experiences before I could trace them back to the intangible soul of another. Groping, uncertain, I at last found my identity, and after seeing my thoughts and feelings repeated in others, I gradually constructed my world of men and of God. As I read and study, I find that this is what the rest of the race has done. Man looks within himself and in time finds the measure and the meaning of the universe.
To, brate! [emoji120]
@nicky podsjeti me na one stihove kod Njegoša onom slijepom starcu kad kaže nisi ti slijep slijepi su ljudi sto vide a zaludu vide.
Sinoć sam inače sanjala razgovor mog đeda i mog oca vrlo emotivan san.
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First, veli, impression of Earth.
https://youtu.be/pT68FS3YbQ4?si=4WcO1hQeMBtKSuxv
Sad se sjetih da sam sanjala da se Gradska TV pretvorila u biblioteku jer sretoh novinara iz gradske. [emoji1787]
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