man this has been one year...... and it wins the best year award i have survived hands down.... if this year hadn happened i wonder what my life wud be today n in my opinion i wud lik actually hav a resolution to make if this year hadn turned out lik this.... sure the resolution wud be something lik try to hav a year lik this not knowin all it wud entail or how to go about the whole thing but still something on those lines you know...... so ya this year has probably seen alotta firsts and lasts.... self realization n oblivion.... hope and the lack of it (not that i usually hope for much but sometimes there is this certain sense of rare optimism if u kno wut i mean)... then there is the usual breakin rules tho this year especially saw some very legal ones n theres also the obedience to them... an lik always learn new words, see new places, meet new people, start new relationships, survive new experiences, plan new things, do never-done-before stuff..... n the likes
so as a new year begins im casually reminiscin... again somethin new cuz i don do stuff lik dis often.... i rarely relook things i feel its better this way but then again i did mention alot of new things happened this year.... n im really greatful for em all.... i did mention dat this year has seen that i have d time of my life.... so for one of the first few times im feelin d sense of leavin something good behind.... yes this year surely has got more emotion into me or mayb its just maturity but then that again is somethin that comes wit time......
so at the end of the day... the end of the year.... the year doesn have to end... y shud a bunch of numbered papers determine when things start n end.... i was thinkin more lik a loopin theory here.... so although i appreciate... greatly appreciate is an understatement..... the year gone bye.... i don think the 1st of Jan, 2009 should be any different than the last if not better.... so i believe it shouldn end lik this... it wont.....!!!!
love n luck
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Saturday, December 27, 2008
ze Freewheelin' Bob Dylan
QUOTES.
"Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet."
"A poem is a naked person... Some people say that I am a poet."
"I don't call myself a poet, because I don't like the word. I'm a trapeze artist."
"People today are still living off the table scraps of the sixties. They are still being passed around - the music and the ideas."
"I've always been the kind of person that doesn't like to trespass, but sometimes you just find yourself over the line."
"I'm speaking for all of us. I'm the spokesman for a generation. "
"I accept chaos, I'm not sure whether it accepts me."
"This land is your land and this land is my land, sure, but the world is run by those that never listen to music anyway."
LYRICS.
"No one is free; even the birds are chained to the sky."
"In the dime stores and bus stations, people talk of situations, read books, repeat quotations, draw conclusions on the wall."
"Democracy doesn't rule the world, You'd better get that in your head; This world is ruled by violence, But I guess that's better left unsaid."
"Mona Lisa must have had the highway blues, you can tell by the way she smiles."
"Inside the museums, Infinity goes up on trial. Voices echo, this is what salvation must be like after a while."
"Ain't it just like the night to play tricks when you're tryin' to be so quiet? We sit here stranded, though we're all doin' our best to deny it. And Louise holds a handful of rain, temptin' you to defy it."
love n luck
"Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet."
"A poem is a naked person... Some people say that I am a poet."
"I don't call myself a poet, because I don't like the word. I'm a trapeze artist."
"People today are still living off the table scraps of the sixties. They are still being passed around - the music and the ideas."
"I've always been the kind of person that doesn't like to trespass, but sometimes you just find yourself over the line."
"I'm speaking for all of us. I'm the spokesman for a generation. "
"I accept chaos, I'm not sure whether it accepts me."
"This land is your land and this land is my land, sure, but the world is run by those that never listen to music anyway."
LYRICS.
"No one is free; even the birds are chained to the sky."
"In the dime stores and bus stations, people talk of situations, read books, repeat quotations, draw conclusions on the wall."
"Democracy doesn't rule the world, You'd better get that in your head; This world is ruled by violence, But I guess that's better left unsaid."
"Mona Lisa must have had the highway blues, you can tell by the way she smiles."
"Inside the museums, Infinity goes up on trial. Voices echo, this is what salvation must be like after a while."
"Ain't it just like the night to play tricks when you're tryin' to be so quiet? We sit here stranded, though we're all doin' our best to deny it. And Louise holds a handful of rain, temptin' you to defy it."
love n luck
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
ze self consciousness
so ya after closely observing the specimen under careful and uncontrolled surrounding circumstances we have now become aware of the once highly self conscious persona in question has for reasons unknown seemed to have let down her guard... what has also been observed is that this has not been a slow gradual process tho on the other hand it has been a rapid, unexpected, totally not anticipated change... this can be proved by the fact that the observers weren even sure if what they wer veiwin could be classified as astimatism or illusional... it was so one of a kind that if eyes din pop it wud b a matter of discussion....
so now that v hav been familiarized wit the above stated data what comes to follow is what do you think catalysed this sudden abrupt behavioral pattern improvement.... what had happened that led to this.... who made this happen... how has the previous philosophy been amended to allow this.... when did realization dawn.... why such a sudden change of train of thought....
so anyone considerin pursuin this issue wil be highly appreciated and so will any data or conclusions that whomsoever may try... highly anticipated... please be useful...
love n luck
ps. all the above observations wer noted when the subject was under no influence of illegal or underage substances whatsoever
so now that v hav been familiarized wit the above stated data what comes to follow is what do you think catalysed this sudden abrupt behavioral pattern improvement.... what had happened that led to this.... who made this happen... how has the previous philosophy been amended to allow this.... when did realization dawn.... why such a sudden change of train of thought....
so anyone considerin pursuin this issue wil be highly appreciated and so will any data or conclusions that whomsoever may try... highly anticipated... please be useful...
love n luck
ps. all the above observations wer noted when the subject was under no influence of illegal or underage substances whatsoever
Friday, December 19, 2008
ze return of the ipod
it's been a while... quite a while actually.... and i'm takin a break from the reality series with the evident lack of reality in me life at the moment.... and to think that in bombay of all places life wouldn't be eventful resulting in a sudden decline in d blog update empire that it actually leaves you high and dry in reference to our souls verdict.... yes writer's block we have reached haven't we? we shall just hope and pray that this is temorary and this too shall pass....
also been a lil too lazy to walk all d way to d comp.... ya i kno i make it sound lik as though nearest net access is lik a mirage in a saharan oasis but consider lethargy.... and the agony while your hopin net will connect... hope hope hope... n then it doesn n u wanna tear your hair out....
oh but i have not been doin absolutely nothin if u consider readin the twilight series somethin which it is.... the second book is a tad more borin than the first.... well im not sayin its borin... jus that its not the most interestin thing in the world.... it has been keepin me mega company and im not not loyal jus there cudv hav been a lil more punch ya kno.... decent for what its worth tho in my opinion..... and the whole werewolf vampire enemity is jus so much more amusin wen dey both fightin over a girl... n u kno how gay those fights can be.... all mushy n stuff..... but dis is lik serious serious i-hate-u.... adolescent emotions aside kinda thin..... frickin awesome.... else it wud lik jus be plain sad... n i bet she's baskin in that glory that two guys.... well not guys exactly to b specific.... are lik willin to rip the skin off each others backs over her if nothin else..... whoa.... some story line to it....
oh n if u make a few observations.... i appear to be the inspiration behind bella's character... yup i know crappy name.... meyer forgot to ask me for my choice there but im anticipatin her apology letter to reach soon enuf..... happy musin et ponderin this fact.... any improvements on the case pls be sure to notify me.... mayb that will be the subject of my new book.... the bella version of moi!!!!
love n luck.....
Sunday, December 14, 2008
ze reality... part 3
well now this is an entirely me publication kinda thing... yes all equipped wid sms lingo et al... n jus btw the sms lingo is so to emphasize my extreme laziness tendency....
but yes back to the reality which is kind of bothering me.... yes what i am talking about here is specifically the presence of entirely lik picture perfect guys from all angles tho only present in fantasy an never in the world i am livin in.... it can be frickin pissin off i tell u... the guy in mention looks amazin lik outta dis world or somethin although he is outta dis world but stil... n he is lik smart n nice n possess an amazin sense of sarcasm with an air of oblivion n he is able to read peoples minds or jus ppl on the whole wit utmost precision.... now thats jus way tooo much of a package to put together kinda thing... n he is not even available.... primarily cuz he doesn exist... fiction i tell u.... should be hung upside down and den beheaded...... now coming to think of it.... fiction fantasy is one reason i stopped readin.... it makes u regret d world ur livin in... not regret exactly cuz i kinda pride myself in not regretin anytin i do.... but its lik a major let down to kno dat even if u did sacrifice everytin u had only to move into dat dimension it wud stil be impossible as dat dimension is not existent.... NON-EXISTENT!!!!
*sob sob* i pity myself...
love n luck
but yes back to the reality which is kind of bothering me.... yes what i am talking about here is specifically the presence of entirely lik picture perfect guys from all angles tho only present in fantasy an never in the world i am livin in.... it can be frickin pissin off i tell u... the guy in mention looks amazin lik outta dis world or somethin although he is outta dis world but stil... n he is lik smart n nice n possess an amazin sense of sarcasm with an air of oblivion n he is able to read peoples minds or jus ppl on the whole wit utmost precision.... now thats jus way tooo much of a package to put together kinda thing... n he is not even available.... primarily cuz he doesn exist... fiction i tell u.... should be hung upside down and den beheaded...... now coming to think of it.... fiction fantasy is one reason i stopped readin.... it makes u regret d world ur livin in... not regret exactly cuz i kinda pride myself in not regretin anytin i do.... but its lik a major let down to kno dat even if u did sacrifice everytin u had only to move into dat dimension it wud stil be impossible as dat dimension is not existent.... NON-EXISTENT!!!!
*sob sob* i pity myself...
love n luck
ze reality... part 2
TRANSITIVITY
You rip apart my carefully constructed reality and leave your fingerprints sprawled across the scene of the crime. Ragged images cascade in the periphery of my vision as I fall into the arms of my memory.Come away with me, you seem to whisper, as my messy curls caress your face. I close my eyes and carve circles into your chest with my finger.If only it were that simple, I sigh to myself.I roll onto my back and cross my arms behind my head. Before long I am immersed in the cognition, captured by the suspended frame of time, aware of the impending transit of circumstances.
Though maybe it can be.
love n luck
-Facebook, Notes
You rip apart my carefully constructed reality and leave your fingerprints sprawled across the scene of the crime. Ragged images cascade in the periphery of my vision as I fall into the arms of my memory.Come away with me, you seem to whisper, as my messy curls caress your face. I close my eyes and carve circles into your chest with my finger.If only it were that simple, I sigh to myself.I roll onto my back and cross my arms behind my head. Before long I am immersed in the cognition, captured by the suspended frame of time, aware of the impending transit of circumstances.
Though maybe it can be.
love n luck
-Facebook, Notes
Thursday, December 11, 2008
ze reality... part 1
One day, I met a boy. He had long hair, and he wore it down like an angel.
"My name is Rob," he said.
"Anna," I answered, and then we smiled.
Rob was my best friend. We talked about heaven and love and coffee with just enough sugar and cream. Ours was a fairy-tale dreamland with perfect moments where we never ran out of things to say.
"Let's be hippies today," he said, and we donned our sunglasses and handkerchiefs, let down our hair and talked of peace and love.
"Lets be bad," I said, and we scowled, decked out in black, and rocked to heavy metal.
"Let's be optimistic," he said, and we walked around in yellow, on top of the world.
"Let's be individuals," he said, and we made up puzzling outfits, contemplated anarchy, and laughed. This was our favourite game.
Sometimes we sang, sometimes we ran, sometimes we talked, but mostly we laughed. We had summers of perfection and idyllic winters. We had sunshine, and we had red cheeks, and we danced in the rain. It was beautiful.
"Let's be in love," I said, and I bit my nails and cried afraid he wouldn't like this game. He danced.
"I love you!" he said, and on went our fairy-tale dreamland. But my stomach was upset, and my eyes cried without me at night, and I knew that it was wrong.
"Let's break up," I said, and he cried. And I cried for his broken heart and the way he didn't look at me anymore.
"I don't like this game," he said.
Then our fairy-tale dreamland and we looked around to see where the colors had gone, and why our world was gray.
"I think it left with the love," I said, and I cried.
"But it was just a game," he said, laughingquietly, and I remembered that there were no kisses. My heart hurt and I cried because I didn't realize the truth.
Once I knew a boy. Now he has forgotten our fairy-tale dreamland, and I watch him as his heart grows cold. He says that he is truly bad.
"Let's hate each other," he said, and I agreed. Then my stomach turned again, and I cried in the dark, and I knew it was wrong.
"Let's make up," I said, and we pretended. Then we tried to remember our fairy-tale dreamland, but he could not find the way and I lost him.
"Let's say I've fallen in love with someone else," he said, and I smiled sadly because it was no longer a game, and he would never play with me again.
"Let's move on," I said.
I remember a boy. We once had a fairy-tale dreamland. Sometimes I still go there, looking for him, because he was lost.
"Let's be hippies today," I call, but I get no answer.
Once, I knew a boy.
love n luck
"My name is Rob," he said.
"Anna," I answered, and then we smiled.
Rob was my best friend. We talked about heaven and love and coffee with just enough sugar and cream. Ours was a fairy-tale dreamland with perfect moments where we never ran out of things to say.
"Let's be hippies today," he said, and we donned our sunglasses and handkerchiefs, let down our hair and talked of peace and love.
"Lets be bad," I said, and we scowled, decked out in black, and rocked to heavy metal.
"Let's be optimistic," he said, and we walked around in yellow, on top of the world.
"Let's be individuals," he said, and we made up puzzling outfits, contemplated anarchy, and laughed. This was our favourite game.
Sometimes we sang, sometimes we ran, sometimes we talked, but mostly we laughed. We had summers of perfection and idyllic winters. We had sunshine, and we had red cheeks, and we danced in the rain. It was beautiful.
"Let's be in love," I said, and I bit my nails and cried afraid he wouldn't like this game. He danced.
"I love you!" he said, and on went our fairy-tale dreamland. But my stomach was upset, and my eyes cried without me at night, and I knew that it was wrong.
"Let's break up," I said, and he cried. And I cried for his broken heart and the way he didn't look at me anymore.
"I don't like this game," he said.
Then our fairy-tale dreamland and we looked around to see where the colors had gone, and why our world was gray.
"I think it left with the love," I said, and I cried.
"But it was just a game," he said, laughingquietly, and I remembered that there were no kisses. My heart hurt and I cried because I didn't realize the truth.
Once I knew a boy. Now he has forgotten our fairy-tale dreamland, and I watch him as his heart grows cold. He says that he is truly bad.
"Let's hate each other," he said, and I agreed. Then my stomach turned again, and I cried in the dark, and I knew it was wrong.
"Let's make up," I said, and we pretended. Then we tried to remember our fairy-tale dreamland, but he could not find the way and I lost him.
"Let's say I've fallen in love with someone else," he said, and I smiled sadly because it was no longer a game, and he would never play with me again.
"Let's move on," I said.
I remember a boy. We once had a fairy-tale dreamland. Sometimes I still go there, looking for him, because he was lost.
"Let's be hippies today," I call, but I get no answer.
Once, I knew a boy.
love n luck
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
ze arrival
well not much will be comin up here... i have observed d internet status here and it is more thatn sable compared to what i have got myself used to in the past 4 minus net available months... but as i type more of my bombay closed clamish non expressive self is setting in so how much i actually wanna share will be like relatively zilch... there are a lot alot of expeiences especially with respect to trains and and the maturity levels of small kids but mayb that wil just be a topic of discussion some other time....
so long then....
again the farewell i bid thee might be very brief or shortlived but whi knows the future now, do you?
love n luck
ps: notice the absence of song lyrics whatsoever
so long then....
again the farewell i bid thee might be very brief or shortlived but whi knows the future now, do you?
love n luck
ps: notice the absence of song lyrics whatsoever
Saturday, December 6, 2008
ze probable temopary farewell
well this might be my last post for a long time indefinitely... not promisin my absence *pessimistic* but the net at home is more unpredictable than the stuff available here... i kno not really possible but hard times i tell you... unbelievable yet true... and technically i am on holiday... ya i kno miss me miss me... but enough of what may or may not be... cuz we arent even sure of it yet...
but yes if you ask how my stay here is going well i wont really tell you cuz ur supposed to be here... any other day i wouldv but you have to pay the price for strandin me here in the middle of nowhere kind oof thing... not that im not enjoyin your lack of presence but stil... i lik drama... i kno this last post of the year probably is lik an irony to the whole dramatic thing but you have to excuse the light state of mind... it has not even sunk in yet.... somethin....
And we keep driving into the night
It's a late goodbye, such a late goodbye...
love n luck
'If you do not want it fixed like that...
Be more careful so that it wont break'
-Full Metal Alchemist (S01 E27)
but yes if you ask how my stay here is going well i wont really tell you cuz ur supposed to be here... any other day i wouldv but you have to pay the price for strandin me here in the middle of nowhere kind oof thing... not that im not enjoyin your lack of presence but stil... i lik drama... i kno this last post of the year probably is lik an irony to the whole dramatic thing but you have to excuse the light state of mind... it has not even sunk in yet.... somethin....
And we keep driving into the night
It's a late goodbye, such a late goodbye...
love n luck
'If you do not want it fixed like that...
Be more careful so that it wont break'
-Full Metal Alchemist (S01 E27)
Friday, December 5, 2008
ze world
it just like imaginary... out of this world kinda thing... like a dream... lik its not happenin... lik u think its happenin but your not sure... that u kno its happenin but u think it isn... that u kno its happpenin but u don want it to but you wan it to... dreamin...
and i lik it... couldn hav been better... not dat i kno what it would be if it was better but its happenin and thats all i can ask for... an evidently im havin a ball of a time... im dancin... dat never happens... i never dance in d middle of d road... i never plan to dance at end point.... i never plan to go for pub parties... dat not really my kinda thin... i never ask ppl if dey wanna dance jus cuz i really wanna... n i never wanna in d first place... n net doesn work at amazin speeds ever... n jus... im lovin it... true McD style... oh n yes an im jus a few hrs away from the McD in the same area kinda thin...
these idiots have left... dey kinda went yday... n apparently my face did a wierd twist thin when dey wer leavin... but i dunno about dat... i don think so... i hope it din... i believe i din... i trust it din... n i cant really see my face... n moreover i cant see it from a bus... especially since im not in d bus but im tryin to figure wer d ppl i wanna see in d bus are... n ppl wer feelin sorry for me... dey kept askin how i was... d world is goin nuts... n dese idiots hardly hav lik reached homw n dey already missin here... yes im here... i don hav to miss here... nice...
"Wish You Were Here"
So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,
blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here.
and i lik it... couldn hav been better... not dat i kno what it would be if it was better but its happenin and thats all i can ask for... an evidently im havin a ball of a time... im dancin... dat never happens... i never dance in d middle of d road... i never plan to dance at end point.... i never plan to go for pub parties... dat not really my kinda thin... i never ask ppl if dey wanna dance jus cuz i really wanna... n i never wanna in d first place... n net doesn work at amazin speeds ever... n jus... im lovin it... true McD style... oh n yes an im jus a few hrs away from the McD in the same area kinda thin...
these idiots have left... dey kinda went yday... n apparently my face did a wierd twist thin when dey wer leavin... but i dunno about dat... i don think so... i hope it din... i believe i din... i trust it din... n i cant really see my face... n moreover i cant see it from a bus... especially since im not in d bus but im tryin to figure wer d ppl i wanna see in d bus are... n ppl wer feelin sorry for me... dey kept askin how i was... d world is goin nuts... n dese idiots hardly hav lik reached homw n dey already missin here... yes im here... i don hav to miss here... nice...
"Wish You Were Here"
So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,
blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
ze end
it just began and its over... done with already... it seems just like yesterday that we were hoping we wpuld get admission and then when we did we were hoping everything would go right.... we finally reach here n it's a little let down but we can deal with that... make friends... lose em... get better ones... begin to not care... learn to get along on your own, make do with what u can, thank the Almighty for the great stuff you have and always know at the back of your mind that irrespective of all the crap that happens everywhere you still wouldn't ask for any different life even one tiny bit whatsoever...
but we like one sem up already i just dont hope that the other 7 which are left pass just as fast... it not nice like that... not nice at all....
and the apparent good news is that end sems are done with... they are over... peace and sanity to reign for a while now... dunno about the sanity part really cuz all i can think of now is dancing really and me and dancing dont exactly go hand in hand... and to top it of i was like doing the birdy dance on the frickin road today and almost the entire stretch of the road... that is definitely something now.... no denial... snap your finger tips... flap your hands like wings... and...........
oh baby let me be
oh let him be
your teddy bear
love n luck
but we like one sem up already i just dont hope that the other 7 which are left pass just as fast... it not nice like that... not nice at all....
and the apparent good news is that end sems are done with... they are over... peace and sanity to reign for a while now... dunno about the sanity part really cuz all i can think of now is dancing really and me and dancing dont exactly go hand in hand... and to top it of i was like doing the birdy dance on the frickin road today and almost the entire stretch of the road... that is definitely something now.... no denial... snap your finger tips... flap your hands like wings... and...........
oh baby let me be
oh let him be
your teddy bear
love n luck
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
ze mother
so my exams are like technically getting done on the 5th kinda thing... it like the day after tomorrow or so... but im not planning on leaving for home until the 7th night... which means i will reach only 8th afternoon.... but.... as of today afternoon, mother and dad are taking it in turns to ask me if i plan on coming any earlier or... if i totally do not like them or.... something that i want to be away from them for so long even when im getting a chance to do so otherwise....
so i almost promised them that i will not really show my face earlier than when i was actually planning on being there... partly as i do not want to cancel my ticket.... n i do not want to lose money because of canceling my ticket and i do not want to go through the pain of trying to get another ticket to the almost totally packed n over crowed means of transport for other people returning to bombay too..... n also bombay is like a change over for like alot of people so even those who do not live ther are going there.....
and the basic whole idea of not running home as soon as the exam are over was because that was supposed to be like a cool off period... like a break or time out or something....not that i do much to deserve them but i am like a big mega huge major fan of timeouts... n i like to take my own as an when i can and as often as i can cause the opportunities that pass your way are really few.... so i just usually take it for granted that my mother after knowing me for like a little more than 17yrs 7months some odd days now.... just thought she would have figured this out a while ago and would probably know of it like the back of her palm... but evidently she has no clue of even the bare existence of such a thing... not something i expected... totally not anticipated and moreover of her at all.... heart break.... heart break.... [read:hibernate, oblivion] n jus by the way... empty... sorry relatively empty spaces are nice places to go on a relax holiday with yourself.... n how often are you able to get people lik soooooo many people to vacate places fast enough without declarin a life hazardous situation kinda thing???
Mother you u should start reading blog.... might just do u a world of good...
anyway... hoping she shall figure in due course of time.... n while still hopin....
love n luck
so i almost promised them that i will not really show my face earlier than when i was actually planning on being there... partly as i do not want to cancel my ticket.... n i do not want to lose money because of canceling my ticket and i do not want to go through the pain of trying to get another ticket to the almost totally packed n over crowed means of transport for other people returning to bombay too..... n also bombay is like a change over for like alot of people so even those who do not live ther are going there.....
and the basic whole idea of not running home as soon as the exam are over was because that was supposed to be like a cool off period... like a break or time out or something....not that i do much to deserve them but i am like a big mega huge major fan of timeouts... n i like to take my own as an when i can and as often as i can cause the opportunities that pass your way are really few.... so i just usually take it for granted that my mother after knowing me for like a little more than 17yrs 7months some odd days now.... just thought she would have figured this out a while ago and would probably know of it like the back of her palm... but evidently she has no clue of even the bare existence of such a thing... not something i expected... totally not anticipated and moreover of her at all.... heart break.... heart break.... [read:hibernate, oblivion] n jus by the way... empty... sorry relatively empty spaces are nice places to go on a relax holiday with yourself.... n how often are you able to get people lik soooooo many people to vacate places fast enough without declarin a life hazardous situation kinda thing???
Mother you u should start reading blog.... might just do u a world of good...
anyway... hoping she shall figure in due course of time.... n while still hopin....
love n luck
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
ze departure
yes u never leave without sayin good bye... u jus dont... no if, but, sorry, was..., or any other thing u might consider an excuse will work here under any circumstance... U JUS DONT LEAVE WITHOUT SAYING GOODBYE... beginnig of story n its end too... n if ever forgiven will not be forgotten...
I'm holdin' on your rope,
Got me ten feet off the ground.
And I'm hearin' what you say,
But I just can't make a sound.
You tell me that you need me,
Then you go and cut me down...
But wait...
You tell me that you're sorry,
Didn't think I'd turn around...
And say...
That it's too late to apologize.
It's too late...
I said it's too late to apologize.
It's too late.
Yeah!
I'd take another chance,
Take a fall, take a shot for you.
I need you like a heart needs a beat,
But it's nothin' new.
I loved you with a fire red,
Now it's turnin' blue...
And you say...
Sorry, like an angel
Heaven let me think was you...
But I'm afraid...
not exactly all that dramatic but i like the song n the lyrics n just btw it might not even be related to this post whatsoever.... mayb i just wanted to make this post seem longer
love n luck
I'm holdin' on your rope,
Got me ten feet off the ground.
And I'm hearin' what you say,
But I just can't make a sound.
You tell me that you need me,
Then you go and cut me down...
But wait...
You tell me that you're sorry,
Didn't think I'd turn around...
And say...
That it's too late to apologize.
It's too late...
I said it's too late to apologize.
It's too late.
Yeah!
I'd take another chance,
Take a fall, take a shot for you.
I need you like a heart needs a beat,
But it's nothin' new.
I loved you with a fire red,
Now it's turnin' blue...
And you say...
Sorry, like an angel
Heaven let me think was you...
But I'm afraid...
not exactly all that dramatic but i like the song n the lyrics n just btw it might not even be related to this post whatsoever.... mayb i just wanted to make this post seem longer
love n luck
Monday, December 1, 2008
ze night
so wel i feel asleep watchin F.R.I.E.N.D.S. last night with lik the tube lights on... the door open... n the girl who fell of the bed already fast asleep... oh just by the way she kind of fell of the bed again today... n ya back to where we were... i fell asleep, watching, to be specific, watchin, around the 10:32nd minute of the 6th episode of the second season... yes i fell asleep and when i did get up by mistake in the middle of the night the light was off... the door closed... n the laptop in a safe not fall off the bed position... k not position exactly but ya...
now the freaky part is when i finally did did get up at the break of dawn... i was sure as hell that i didn keep the laptop or switch off the lights or close the door but the fall off bed girl also didn... yes she claims of sane and sound mind that she didn... she didn... i didn... n to consider there were only two of us in the room so who in the world did all that?? who? who??? who????
if any information please contact me... you know where and how... in case you dont just remember there is something called comment you idiot... anything sounding vaguely sane might be suitably rewarded...
love n luck
now the freaky part is when i finally did did get up at the break of dawn... i was sure as hell that i didn keep the laptop or switch off the lights or close the door but the fall off bed girl also didn... yes she claims of sane and sound mind that she didn... she didn... i didn... n to consider there were only two of us in the room so who in the world did all that?? who? who??? who????
if any information please contact me... you know where and how... in case you dont just remember there is something called comment you idiot... anything sounding vaguely sane might be suitably rewarded...
love n luck
Sunday, November 30, 2008
ze math
well for one it really gets to your brain.... whether it makes u so sick that u dont even want to eat chocolate.... keepin in mind that chocolate is one of your favourite food stuffs.... or it makes you think that the aforementioned under the weather guy... GUY... is going into labour.... or if it makes you artistically design nail polished well ya nails obviously.... or it also seems to make you watch th same movie over n over again with its sequel.... yes bottomline math does wierd.... sorry wierd is an understatement.... but yes wierd stuff to your brains....
oh n some points to remember:
never swirl pen drives in the air.... especially 4 gigs drives that aren yours
dont go to drop off your sis when over 54.12 of her class is there to see her off cuz she might not say bye to you.... n there is a possibility that she might not even realise your there
cats are real real fast... reflexes at least.... they can lash out n eat a scamperin lizard off the wall
time passes faster than u think it does.... n than u actually try realizin
almost everyone recollects figurin out the previous point
math royally screws with your brain.... it mothers your happiness big time...
do not randomly start talkin about jeans in public areas where there are lots of ppl wearin em as then you tend to stare... not just stare stare.... stare at the jeans... like the
stop and stare
you think you're moving but u go nowhere....
GO!
love n luck
PS: humble apology for the sudden influx of nicolas flamel... as per choice over look completely or as you wish... you obviously are going to do that but reading in parts is what i strongly advise... Sorry
oh n some points to remember:
never swirl pen drives in the air.... especially 4 gigs drives that aren yours
dont go to drop off your sis when over 54.12 of her class is there to see her off cuz she might not say bye to you.... n there is a possibility that she might not even realise your there
cats are real real fast... reflexes at least.... they can lash out n eat a scamperin lizard off the wall
time passes faster than u think it does.... n than u actually try realizin
almost everyone recollects figurin out the previous point
math royally screws with your brain.... it mothers your happiness big time...
do not randomly start talkin about jeans in public areas where there are lots of ppl wearin em as then you tend to stare... not just stare stare.... stare at the jeans... like the
stop and stare
you think you're moving but u go nowhere....
GO!
love n luck
PS: humble apology for the sudden influx of nicolas flamel... as per choice over look completely or as you wish... you obviously are going to do that but reading in parts is what i strongly advise... Sorry
Saturday, November 29, 2008
ze nicholas flamel
Nicolas Flamel (traditionally c. 1330 – 1418) was a successful scrivener and manuscript-seller who developed a posthumous reputation as an alchemist due to his reputed work on the Philosopher's Stone.
An alchemical book, published in Paris in 1612 as Livre des figures hiéroglypiques and in London in 1624 as Exposition of the Hieroglyphicall Figures was attributed to Flamel.[1] It is a collection of designs purportedly commissioned by Flamel for a tympanum at the Cimetière des Innocents in Paris, long disappeared at the time the work was published. In the publisher's introduction Flamel's search for the Philosopher's Stone was described. According to that introduction, Flamel had made it his life's work to understand the text of a mysterious 21-page book he had purchased. The introduction claims that, around 1378, he traveled to Spain for assistance with translation. On the way back, he reported that he met a sage, who identified Flamel's book as being a copy of the original Book of Abraham. With this knowledge, over the next few years Flamel and his wife allegedly decoded enough of the book to successfully replicate its recipe for the Philosopher's Stone, producing first silver in 1382, and then gold.
According to the introduction to his work and additional details that have accrued since its publication, Flamel was the most accomplished of the European alchemists, and had learned his art from a Jewish converso on the road to Santiago de Compostela. "Others thought Flamel was the creation of 17th-century editors and publishers desperate to produce modern printed editions of supposedly ancient alchemical treatises then circulating in manuscript for an avid reading public," Deborah Harkness put it succinctly.[2] The modern assertion that many references to him or his writings appear in alchemical texts of the 1500s, however, has not been linked to any particular source. The essence of his reputation is that he succeeded at the two magical goals of alchemy -- that he made the Philosopher's Stone which turns lead into gold, and that he and his wife Perenelle achieved immortality.
Flamel's house still stands in Paris, and is now the oldest house in the city. The ground floor contains a restaurant.
ze summary of philosophy
If you would know how metals are transmuted, you must understand from what matter they are generated, and how they are formed in the mines; and that you may not err, you must see and observe, how those transmutations are performed in the bowels or veins of the earth.
Minerals taken out of the earth, may be changed, if beforehand they be spiritualized, and reduced into their sulphureous and argent vive nature, which are the two sperms, composed of the elements, the one masculine, the other feminine. - The male sulphur, is nothing but fire and air; and the true sulphur is as a fire, but not the vulgar, which contains no metallic substance. The feminine sperm is argent vive, which is nothing but earth and water; these two sperms the ancient sages called two dragons or serpents, of which, the one is winged, the other not. Sulphur not flying the fire, is without wings; the winged serpent is argent vive, borne up by the wind, therefore in her certain hour she flies from the fire, not having fixity enough to endure it. Now if these two sperms, separated from themselves, be united again, by powerful nature, in the potentiality of mercury, which is the metallic fire: being thus united, it is called by the philosophers the flying dragon; - because the dragon kindled by its fire, while he flies by little and little, fills the air with his fire, and poisonous vapours. - The same thing doth mercury; for being placed upon an exterior fire, and in its place in a vessel; it sets on fire its inside, which is hidden in its profundity; by which may be seen, how the external fire does burn and inflame the natural mercury. - And then you may see how the poisonous vapour breaks out into the air, with a most stinking and pernicious poison; which is nothing else but the head of the dragon, which hastily goes out of Babylon. But other philosophers have compared this mercury, with a flying lion, because a lion is a devourer of other creatures, and delights himself in his voracity of every thing, except that which is able to resist his violence and fury. So also does mercury, which has in itself such a power, force, and operation, to spoil and devastate a metal of its form, and to devour it. Mercury being too much influenced, devours and hides metals in its belly; but which of them so ever it be, it is certain, that, it consumes it not, for in their nature they are perfect, and much more indurate. But mercury has in itself a substance of perfecting sol and luna; and all the imperfect bodies or metals, proceed from argent vive; therefore the ancients called it the mother of metals; whence it follows, that in its own principle and centre, being formed, it has a double metallic substance. And first, the substance of the interior; then the substance of sol, which is not like the other metals; of these two substances, argent vive is formed, which in its body is spiritually nourished. As soon then as nature has formed argent vive, of the two after-named spirits, then it endeavors to make them perfect and corporeal; but when the spirits are of strength, and the two sperms awakened out of their central principle, then they desire to assume their own bodies. Which being done, argent vive the mother must die, and being thus naturally mortified, cannot (as dead things cannot) quicken itself as before. But there are some proud philosophers, who in obscure words affirm, that we ought to transmute both perfect and imperfect bodies into running argent vive; this is the serpent's subtlety, and you may be in danger of being bit by it. It is true, that argent vive may transmute an imperfect body, as lead or tin; and may without much labour, multiply in a quantity; but thereby it diminishes or loses its own perfection, and may no more for this reason be called argent vive. But if by art it may be mortified, that it can no more vivify itself, then it will be changed into another thing, as in cinnabar, or sublimate is done. For when it is by the art coagulated, whether sooner or later, yet then its two bodies assume not a fixed body, nor can they conserve it, as we may see in the bowels of the earth.
Lest anyone should therefore err, there are in the veins of lead some fixed grains or particles of fine sol and luna mixed in its substance of nourishment.
The first coagulation of argent vive is in the mine of saturn; and most fit and proper it is to bring him unto perfection and fixation; for the mine of saturn is not without fixed particles of gold, which particles were imparted to it by nature. So in itself it may be multiplied and brought to perfection, and a vast power or strength, as I have tried, and therefore affirm it.- So long as it is not separated from its mine, viz. its argent vive, but well kept, (for every metal which is in its mine, the same is an argent vive) then may it multiply itself, for that it has substance from its mercury, or argent vive, but it will be like some green immature fruit on a tree, which the blossom being past, becomes an unripe fruit, and then a larger apple. Now if any one plucks this unripe fruit from the tree, then its first forming would be frustrate, nor would it grow larger nor ripe; for man knows not how to give substance, nourishment, or maturity, so well as internal nature, while the fruit yet hangs on the tree, which feeds it with substance and nourishment, till the determined maturity is accomplished.
And so long also does the fruit draw sap or moisture for its augmentation and nourishment, till it comes to its perfect maturity. So is it with sol; for if by nature, a grain, or grains are made, and it is reduced to its argent vive, then also by the same it is daily, without ceasing, sustained and supplied, and reduced into its place, viz. argent vive, as he is in himself; and then must you wait till he shall obtain some substance from his mercury as it happens in the fruit of trees. For as the argent vive, both of perfect and imperfect bodies is a tree, so they can have no more nourishment, otherwise than from their own mercury.
If therefore you would gather fruits from argent vive, viz. pure sol and luna, if they be disjoined from their mercury; think not that you, like as nature did in the beginning, may again conjoin and multiply, and without change, augment them. For if metals be separated from their mine, then they, like the fruit of trees too soon gathered, never come to their perfection, as nature and experience makes it appear. For if an apple or pear be once plucked off from the tree, it would then be a great vanity to attempt to fasten it to the tree again, expecting it to encrease and grow ripe; and experience testifies, that the more it is handled, the more it withereth. And so it is also with metals: for if you should take the vulgar sol and luna, endeavoring to reduce them into argent vive, you would wholly play the fool, for there is no artifice yet found, whereby it can be performed. - Though you should use many waters, and cements, or other things infinitely of that kind, yet would you continually err, and that would befal you, which would him that should tie unripe fruit to their trees.
Yet some philosophers have said truly, that if sol and luna, by a right mercury, or argent vive be rightly conjoined, they will make all imperfect metals perfect; but in this thing most men have erred, who having these three vegetables, animals, and minerals, which in one thing are conjoined; for that they considered not, that the philosophers speak not of vulgar sol, luna, and mercury, which are all dead, and receive no more substance or increase from nature, but remain the same in their own essence, without the possibility of bringing others to perfection.
They are fruits plucked off from their trees before their time, and are therefore of no value or estimation. Therefore see the fruit in the tree, that leads them straight to it, whose fruit is daily made greater with increase, so long as the tree bears it. This work is seen with joy and satisfaction; and by this means one may transplant the tree without gathering the fruit, fixing it into a moister, better, and more fruitful place, which in one day will give more nourishment to the fruit, than it received otherwise in an hundred years.
In this therefore, it is understood, that mercury, the much commended tree must be taken, which has in its power indissolvably sol and luna; and then transplanted into another soil nearer the sun, that thence it may gain its profitable increase, for which thing, dew does abundantly suffice; for where it was placed before, it was so weakened by cold and wind, that little fruit could be expected from it, and where it long stood and brought forth no fruit at all.
And indeed the philosophers have a garden, where the sun as well morning as evening remains with a moist sweet dew, without ceasing, with which it is sprinkled and moistened; - whose earth brings forth trees and fruits, which are transplanted thither, which also receive descent and nourishment from the pleasant meadows. And this is done daily, and there they are both corroborated and quickened, without ever fading; and this more in one year, than in a thousand, where the cold affects them. - Take them therefore, and night and day cherish them in a distillatory fire; but not with a fire of wood or coals, but in a clear transparent fire, not unlike the sun, which is never hotter than is requisite, but is always alike; for a vapour is the dew, and seed of metals, which ought not to be altered.
Fruits, if they be too hot, and without dew or moisture, they abide on the boughs, but without coming to perfection, only withering or dwindling away. But if they be fed with heat and due moisture on their trees, then they prove elegant and fruitful; for heat and moisture are the elements of all earthly things, animal, vegetable, and mineral. Therefore fires of wood and coal produce or help not metals; those are violent fires, which nourish not as the heat of the sun does, that conserves all corporeal things; for that it is natural which they follow. But a philosopher acts not what nature does; for nature where she rules, forms all vegetables, animals, and minerals, in their own degrees. Men, do not after the same sort, by their arts make natural things. When nature has finished her work about them; then by our art they are made more perfect. - In this manner the ancient sages and philosophers, for our information, wrought on luna and mercury her true mother, of which they made the mercury of the philosophers, which in its operation is much stronger than the natural mercury. For this is serviceable only to the simple, perfect, imperfect, hot and cold metals; but our mercury, the philosophers stone, is useful to the more than perfect, imperfect bodies, or metals. Also that the sun may perfect and nourish them without diminution, addition, or immutation, as they were created or formed by nature, and so leave them, not neglecting any thing.
I will not now say, that the philosophers conjoin the tree, for the better perfecting their mercury, as some unskilful in the nature of things, and unlearned chemists affirm, who take common sol, luna, and mercury, and so unnaturally handle them, till they vanish in smoak. These men endeavor to make the philosophers mercury, but they never attain it, which is the first matter of the stone, and the first minera thereof. If you would come hither and find good, and to the mountain of the seaven, where there is no plain, you would betake yourself; from the highest, you must look downward to the sixth, which you will see afar off. In the height of this mountain, you will find a royal herb triumphing, which some have called mineral, some vegetable, some saturnine. But let its bones or ribs be left, and let a pure clean broth be taken from it, so will the better part of your work be done. This is the right and subtle mercury of the philosophers, which you are to take, which will make first the white work, and then the red. If you have well understood me, both of them are nothing else, as they term them, but the practice, which is so easy and simple, that a woman sitting by her distaff may perfect it. As if in winter she would put her eggs under a hen, and not wash them, because eggs are put under a hen without washing them, and no more labour is required about them, than that they should be every day turned, that the chickens may be the better and sooner hatched, concerning the which enough is said.
But that I may follow the example, first, wash not the mercury, but take it, and with its like, which is fire, place it in the ashes, which is straw, and in one glass which is the nest, without any other things in a convenient alembic, which is the house, from whence it will come forth a chicken, which with its blood will free thee from all diseases, and with its flesh will nourish thee, and with its feathers will clothe thee, and keep thee warm from the injuries of the cold and ambient air. For this cause I have written this present treatise, that you may search with the greater desire, and walk in the right way. And I have written this small book, this summary, that you might better comprehend the sayings and writings of the philosophers, which I believe you will much better understand for time to come.
ze detailed bigraphy
There is nothing legendary about the life of Nicolas Flamel. According to the records, he was born in 1330 and died in 1418. He was a real person, who became one of the greatest alchemists in the world. The Bibliotheque Nationale in Paris contains works copied in his own hand and original works written by him. All the official documents relating to his life have been found: his marriage contract, his deeds of gift, his will. His history rests solidly on those substantial material proofs for which men clamor if they are to believe in obvious things. To this indisputably authentic history, legend has added a few flowers. But in every spot where the flowers of legend grow, underneath there is the solid earth of truth.
Whether Nicolas Flamel was born at Pontoise or somewhere else, a question that historians have argued and investigated with extreme attention, seems to me to be entirely without importance. It is enough to know that towards the middle of the fourteenth century, Flamel was carrying on the trade of a bookseller and had a stall backing on to the columns of Saint-Jacques la Boucherie in Paris. It was not a big stall, for it measured only two feet by two and a half. However, it grew. He bought a house in the old rue de Marivaux and used the ground floor for his business. Copyists and illuminators did their work there. He himself gave a few writing lessons and taught nobles who could only sign their names with a cross. One of the copyists or illuminators acted also as a servant to him.
Nicolas Flamel married Pernelle, a good-looking, intelligent widow, slightly older than himself and the possessor of a little property. Every man meets once in his life the woman with whom he could live in peace and harmony. For Nicolas Flamel, Pernelle was that woman. Over and above her natural qualities, she had another which is still rarer. She was a woman who was capable of keeping a secret all her life without revealing it to anybody in confidence. But the story of Nicolas Flamel is the story of a book for the most part. The secret made its appearance with the book, and neither the death of its possessors nor the lapse of centuries led to the complete discovery of the secret.
Nicolas Flamel had acquired some knowledge of the Hermetic art. The ancient alchemy of the Egyptians and the Greeks that flourished among the Arabs had, thanks to them, penetrated to Christian countries. Nicolas Flamel did not, of course, regard alchemy as a mere vulgar search for the means of making gold. For every exalted mind the finding of the Philosopher's Stone was the finding of the essential secret of Nature, the secret of her unity and her laws, the possession of perfect wisdom. Flamel dreamed of sharing in this wisdom. His ideal was the highest that man could attain. And he knew that it could be realized through a book, for the secret of the Philosopher's Stone had already been found and transcribed in symbolic form. Somewhere it existed. It was in the hands of unknown sages who lived somewhere unknown. But how difficult it was for a small Paris bookseller to get into touch with those sages.
Nothing, really, has changed since the fourteenth century. In our day also many men strive desperately towards an ideal, the path which they know but cannot climb; and they hope to win the magic formula (which will make them new beings) from some miraculous visit or from a book written expressly for them. But for most, the visitor does not come and the book is not written. Yet for Nicolas Flamel the book was written. Perhaps because a bookseller is better situated than other people to receive a unique book; perhaps because the strength of his desire organized events without his knowledge, so that the book came when it was time. So strong was his desire, that the coming of the book was preceded by a dream, which shows that this wise and well-balanced bookseller had a tendency to mysticism.
Nicolas Flamel dreamed one night that an angel stood before him. The angel, who was radiant and winged like all angels, held a book in his hands and uttered these words, which were to remain in the memory of the hearer: "Look well at this book, Nicholas. At first you will understand nothing in it -- neither you nor any other man. But one day you will see in it that which no other man will be able to see." Flamel stretched out his hand to receive the present from the angel, and the whole scene disappeared in the golden light of dreams. Sometime after that the dream was partly realized.
One day, when Nicolas Flamel was alone in his shop, an unknown man in need of money appeared with a manuscript to sell. Flamel was no doubt tempted to receive him with disdainful arrogance, as do the booksellers of our day when some poor student offers to sell them part of his library. But the moment he saw the book he recognized it as the book that the angel had held out to him, and he paid two florins for it without bargaining. The book appeared to him indeed resplendent and instinct with divine virtue. It had a very old binding of worked copper, on which were engraved curious diagrams and certain characters, some of which were Greek and others in a language he could not decipher. The leaves of the book were not made of parchment, like those he was accustomed to copy and bind. They were made of the bark of young trees and were covered with very clear writing done with an iron point. These leaves were divided into groups of seven and consisted of three parts separated by a page without writing, but containing a diagram that was quite unintelligible to Flamel. On the first page were written words to the effect that the author of the manuscript was Abraham the Jew -- prince, priest, Levite, astrologer, and philosopher. Then followed great curses and threats against anyone who set eyes on it unless he was either a priest or a scribe. The mysterious word maranatha, which was many times repeated on every page, intensified the awe-inspiring character of the text and diagrams. But most impressive of all was the patined gold of the edges of the book, and the atmosphere of hallowed antiquity that there was about it.
Maranatha! Was he qualified to read this book? Nicolas Flamel considered that being a scribe he might read the book without fear. He felt that the secret of life and of death, the secret of the unity of Nature, the secret of the duty of the wise man, had been concealed behind the symbol of the diagram and formula in the text by an initiate long since dead. He was aware that it is a rigid law for initiates that they must not reveal their knowledge, because if it is good and fruitful for the intelligent, it is bad for ordinary men. As Jesus has clearly expressed it, pearls must not be given as food to swine. Was he qualified to read this book? Nicolas Flamel considered that being a scribe he might read the book without fear. He felt that the secret of life and of death, the secret of the unity of Nature, the secret of the duty of the wise man, had been concealed behind the symbol of the diagram and formula in the text by an initiate long since dead. He was aware that it is a rigid law for initiates that they must not reveal their knowledge, because if it is good and fruitful for the intelligent, it is bad for ordinary men. As Jesus has clearly expressed it, pearls must not be given as food to swine.
He had the pearl in his hands. It was for him to rise in the scale of man in order to be worthy to understand its purity. He must have had in his heart a hymn of thanksgiving to Abraham the Jew, whose name was unknown to him, but who had thought and labored in past centuries and whose wisdom he was now inheriting. He must have pictured him a bald old man with a hooked nose, wearing the wretched robe of his race and wilting in some dark ghetto, in order that the light of his thought might not be lost. And he must have vowed to solve the riddle, to rekindle the light, to be patient and faithful, like the Jew who had died in the flesh but lived eternally in his manuscript.
Nicolas Flamel had studied the art of transmutation. He was in touch with all the learned men of his day. Manuscripts dealing with alchemy have been found, notably that of Almasatus, which were part of his personal library. He had knowledge of the symbols of which the alchemists made habitual use. But those that he saw in the book of Abraham the Jew remained dumb for him. In vain, he copied some of the mysterious pages and set them out in his shop, in the hope that some visitor conversant with the Cabala would help him to solve the problem. He met with nothing but the laughter of skeptics and the ignorance of pseudo-scholars -- just as he would today if he showed the book of Abraham the Jew either to pretentious occultists or to the scholars at the Academie des Inscriptions et Belles Lettres.
For twenty-one years, he pondered the hidden meaning of the book. That is really not that long. He is favored among men for whom twenty-one years are enough to enable him to find the key of life. At the end of twenty-one years, Nicolas Flamel had developed in himself sufficient wisdom and strength to hold out against the storm of light involved by the coming of truth to the heart of man. Only then did events group themselves harmoniously according to his will and allow him to realize his desire. For everything good and great that happens to a man is the result of the co-ordination of his own voluntary effort and a malleable fate.
No one in Paris could help Nicolas Flamel understand the book. Now, this book had been written by a Jew, and part of its text was in ancient Hebrew. The Jews had recently been driven out of France by persecution. Nicolas Flamel knew that many of these Jews had migrated to Spain. In towns such as Malaga and Granada, which were still under the more enlightened dominion of the Arabs, there lived prosperous communities of Jews and flourishing synagogues, in which scholars and doctors were bred. Many Jews from the Christian towns of Spain took advantage of the tolerance extended by the Moorish kings and went to Granada to learn. There they copied Plato and Aristotle -- forbidden texts in the rest of Europe -- and returned home to spread abroad the knowledge of the ancients and of the Arab masters.
Nicolas Flamel thought that in Spain he might meet some erudite Cabalist who would translate the book of Abraham for him. Traveling was difficult, and without a strong-armed escort, safe passage was nearly impossible for a solitary traveler. Flamel made therefore a vow to St James of Compostela, the patron saint of his parish, to make a pilgrimage. This was also a means of concealing from his neighbors and friends the real purpose of his journey. The wise and faithful Pernelle was the only person who was aware of his real plans. He put on the pilgrim's attire and shell-adorned hat, took the staff, which ensured a certain measure of safety to a traveler in Christian countries, and started off for Galicia. Since he was a prudent man and did not wish to expose the precious manuscript to the risks of travel, he contented himself with taking with him a few carefully copied pages, which he hid in his modest baggage.
Nicolas Flamel has not recounted the adventures that befell him on his journey. Possibly he had none. It may be that adventures happen only to those who want to have them. He has told us merely that he went first to fulfill his vow to St James. Then he wandered about Spain, trying to get into relations with learned Jews. But they were suspicious of Christians, particularly of the French, who had expelled them from their country. Besides, he had not much time. He had to remember Pernelle waiting for him, and his shop, which was being managed only by his servants. To a man of over fifty on his first distant journey, the silent voice of his home makes a powerful appeal every evening.
In discouragement, he started his homeward journey. His way lay through Leon, where he stopped for the night at an inn and happened to sup at the same table as a French merchant from Boulogne, who was traveling on business. This merchant inspired him with confidence and trust, and he whispered a few words to him of his wish to find a learned Jew. By a lucky chance the French merchant was in relations with a certain Maestro Canches, an old man who lived at Leon, immersed in his books. Nothing was easier than to introduce this Maestro Canches to Nicolas Flamel, who decided to make one more attempt before leaving Spain.
One can easily appreciate the depth of the scene when the profane merchant of Boulogne has left them, and the two men are face to face. The gates of the ghetto close. Maestro Canches' only thought is expressed by a few polite words to rid himself as quickly as he can of this French bookseller, who has deliberately dulled the light in his eye and clothed himself in mediocrity (for the prudent traveler passes unnoticed). Flamel speaks, reticently at first. He admires the knowledge of the Jews. Thanks to his trade, he has read a great many books. At last he timidly lets fall a name, which hitherto has aroused not a spark of interest in anyone to whom he has spoken -- the name of Abraham the Jew, prince, priest, Levite, astrologer and philosopher. Suddenly Flamel sees the eyes of the feeble old man before him light up. Maestro Canches has heard of Abraham the Jew! He was a great master of the wandering race, perhaps the most venerable of all the sages who studied the mysteries of the Cabala, a higher initiate, one of those who rise the higher the better they succeed in remaining unknown. His book existed and disappeared centuries ago. But tradition says it has never been destroyed, that it is passed from hand to hand and that it always reaches the man whose destiny it is to receive it. Maestro Canches has dreamed all his life of finding it. He is very old, close to death, and now the hope that he has almost given up is near realization. The night goes by, and there is a light over the two heads bent over their work. Maestro Canches is translating the Hebrew from the time of Moses. He is explaining symbols that originated in ancient Chaldea. How the years fall from these two men, inspired by their common belief in truth.
But the few pages that Flamel had brought are not enough to allow the secret to be revealed. Maestro Canches made up his mind at once to accompany Flamel to Paris, but his extreme age was an obstacle. Furthermore, Jews were not allowed in France. He vowed to rise above his infirmity and convert his religion! For many years now, he had been above all religions. So the two men, united by their indissoluble bond, headed off along the Spanish roads north.
The ways of Nature are mysterious. The nearer Maestro Canches came to the realization of his dream, the more precarious became his health, and the breath of life weakened in him. Oh God! he prayed, grant me the days I need, and that I may cross the threshold of death only when I possess the liberating secret by which darkness becomes light and flesh spirit!
But the prayer was not heard. The inflexible law had appointed the hour of the old man's death. He fell ill at Orleans, and in spite of all Flamel's care, died seven days later. As he had converted and Flamel did not want to be suspected of bringing a Jew into France, he had him piously buried in the church of Sante-Croix and had masses said in his honor. For he rightly thought that a soul that had striven for so pure an aim and had passed at the moment of its fruition. could not rest in the realm of disembodied spirits.
Flamel continued his journey and reached Paris, where he found Pernelle, his shop, his copyists, and his manuscripts safe and sound. He laid aside his pilgrim's staff. But now everything was changed. It was with a joyous heart that he went his daily journey from house to shop, that he gave writing lessons to illiterates and discussed Hermetic science with the educated. From natural prudence, he continued to feign ignorance, in which he succeeded all the more easily because knowledge was within him. What Maestro Canches had already taught him in deciphering a few pages of the book of Abraham the Jew was sufficient to allow his understanding of the whole book. He spent three years more in searching and in completing his knowledge, but at the end of this period, the transmutation was accomplished. Having learned what materials were necessary to put together beforehand, he followed strictly the method of Abraham the Jew and changed a half-pound of mercury first into silver, and then into virgin gold. And simultaneously, he accomplished the same transmutation in his soul. From his passions, mixed in an invisible crucible, the substance of the eternal spirit emerged.
From this point, according to historical records, the little bookseller became rich. He established many low-income houses for the poor, founded free hospitals, and endowed churches. But he did not use his riches to increase his personal comfort or to satisfy his vanity. He altered nothing in his modest life. With Pernelle, who had helped him in his search for the Philosopher's Stone, he devoted his life to helping his fellow men. "Husband and wife lavished succor on the poor, founded hospitals, built or repaired cemeteries, restored the front of Saint Genevieve des Ardents and endowed the institution of the Quinze-Vingts, the blind inmates of which, in memory of this fact, came every year to the church of Saint Jacques la Boucherie to pray for their benefactor, a practice which continued until 1789," wrote historian Louis Figuier.
At the same time that he was learning how to make gold out of any material, he acquired the wisdom of despising it in his heart. Thanks to the book of Abraham the Jew, he had risen above the satisfaction of his senses and the turmoil of his passions. He knew that man attains immortality only through the victory of spirit over matter, by essential purification, by the transmutation of the human into the divine. He devoted the last part of his life to what Christians call the working out of personal salvation. But he attained his object without fasting or asceticism, keeping the unimportant place that destiny had assigned him, continuing to copy manuscripts, buying and selling, in his new shop in the rue Saint-Jacques la Boucherie. For him, there was no more mystery about the Cemetery of the Innocents, which was near his house and under the arcades of which he liked to walk in the evenings. If he had the vaults and monuments restored at his own expense, it was nothing more than compliance with the custom of his time. He knew that the dead who had been laid to rest there were not concerned with stones and inscriptions and that they would return, when their hour came, in different forms, to perfect themselves and die anew. He knew the trifling extent to which he could help them. Yet he had no temptation to divulge the secret that had been entrusted to him through the book, for he was able to measure the lowest degree of virtue necessary for the possession of it, and he knew that the revelation of the secret to an undeveloped soul only increased the imperfection of that soul.
And when he was illuminating a manuscript and putting in with a fine brush a touch of skyblue into the eye of an angel, or of white into a wing, no smile played on his grave face, for he knew that pictures are useful to children; moreover, it is possible that beautiful fantasies which are pictured with love and sincerity may become realities in the dream of death. Though he knew how to make gold, Nicolas Flamel made it only three times in the whole of his life and then, not for himself, for he never changed his way of life; he did it only to mitigate the evils that he saw around him. And this is the single touchstone that convinces that he really attained the state of adept.
This "touchstone" test can be used by everyone and at all times. To distinguish a man's superiority, there is but a single sign: a practical and not an alleged-contempt for riches. However great may be a man's active virtues or the radiant power of his intelligence, if they are accompanied by the love of money that most eminent men possess, it is certain that they are tainted with baseness. What they create under the hypocritical pretext of good will bear within it the seeds of decay. Unselfishness and innocence alone is creative, and it alone can help to raise man.
Flamel's generous gifts aroused curiosity and even jealousy. It seemed amazing that a poor bookseller should found almshouses and hospitals should build houses with low rents, churches and convents. Rumors reached the ears of the king, Charles VI, who ordered Cramoisi, a member of the Council of State, to investigate the matter. But thanks to Flamel's prudence and reticence, the result of the inquiries was favorable to him.
The rest of Flamel's life passed without special event. It was actually the life of a scholar. He went from his house in the rue de Marivaux to his shop. He walked in the Cemetery of the Innocents, for the imagination of death was pleasant to him. He handled beautiful parchments. He illuminated missals. He paid devout attention to Pernelle as she grew old, and he knew that life holds few better things than the peace of daily work and a calm affection.
Pernelle died first; Nicolas Flamel reached the age of eighty. He spent the last years of his life writing books on alchemy. He carefully settled his affairs and planned how he was to be buried: at the end of the nave of Saint Jacques la Boucherie. The tombstone to be laid over his body had already been made. On this stone, in the middle of various figures, there was carved a sun above a key and a closed book. It contains the symbols of his life and can still be seen at his gravesite in the Musee de Cluny in Paris. His death, to which he joyfully looked forward, was as circumspect and as perfect as his life.
As it is equally useful to study men's weaknesses as their finest qualities, we may mark Flamel's weakness. This sage, who attached importance only to the immortality of his soul and despised the ephemeral form of the body, was inspired as he grew old with a strange taste for the sculptural representation of his body and face. Whenever he had a church built, or even restored, he requested the sculptor to represent him, piously kneeling, in a comer of the pediment of the facade. He had himself twice sculptured on an arch in the Cemetery of the Innocents: once as he was in his youth and once old and infirm. When he had a new house built in the rue de Montmorency, on the outskirts of Paris, eleven saints were carved on the front, but a side door was surmounted with a bust of Flamel.
The bones of sages seldom rest in peace in their grave. Perhaps Nicolas Flamel knew this and tried to protect his remains by ordering a tombstone of great weight and by having a religious service held for him twelve times a year. But these precautions were useless. Hardly was Flamel dead when the report of his alchemical powers and of his concealment somewhere of an enormous quantity of gold spread through Paris and the world. Everyone who was seeking the famous projection powder, which turns all substances into gold, came prowling round all the places where he had lived in the hope of finding a minute portion of the precious powder. It was said also that the symbolical figures which he had had sculptured on various monuments gave, for those who could decipher it, the formula of the Philosopher's Stone. There was not a single alchemist but came in pilgrimage to study the sacred science on the, stones of Saint-Jacques-la-Boucherie, or the Cemetery of the Innocents. The sculptures and inscriptions were broken off under cover of darkness and removed. The cellars of his house were searched and the walls examined.
According to author Albert Poisson, towards the middle of the sixteenth century a man who had a well-known name and good credentials, which were no doubt fictitious, presented himself before the parish board of Saint-Jacques la Boucherie. He said he wished to carry out the vow of a dead friend, a pious alchemist, who, on his deathbed, had given him a sum of money with which to repair Flamel's house. The board accepted the offer. The unknown man had the cellars ransacked under the pretext of strengthening the foundations; wherever he saw a hieroglyph he found some reason for knocking down the wall at that point. Having found nothing, he disappeared, forgetting to pay the workmen. Not long afterwards, a Capuchin friar and a German baron are said to have discovered in the house some stone vials full of a reddish powder -- allegedly the projection powder. By the seventeenth century, the various houses which had belonged to Flamel were despoiled of their ornaments and decorations, and there was nothing of them left but the four bare walls.
What had happened to the book of Abraham the Jew? Nicolas Flamel had bequeathed his papers and library to a nephew named Perrier, who was interested in alchemy and of whom he was very fond. Absolutely nothing is known of Perrier. He no doubt benefited by his uncle's teachings and spent a sage's life in the munificent obscurity that Flamel prized so dearly, but had not been able altogether to maintain during the last years of his life. For two centuries the precious heritage was handed down from father to son, without anything being heard of it. Traces of it are found again in the reign of Louis XIII. A descendant of Flamel, named Dubois, who must still have possessed a supply of the projection powder, threw off the wise reserve of his ancestor and used the powder to dazzle his contemporaries. In the presence of the King, he changed leaden balls with it into gold. As a result of this experiment, it is known he had many interviews with Cardinal de Richelieu, who wished to extract his secret. Dubois, who possessed the powder but was unable to understand either Flamel's manuscripts or the book of Abraham the Jew, could tell him nothing and was soon imprisoned at Vincennes. It was found that he had committed certain offences in the past, and this enabled Richelieu to get him condemned to death and confiscate his property for his own benefit. At the same time the proctor of the Chitelet, no doubt by order of Richelieu, seized the houses that Flamel had owned and had them searched from top to bottom. About this time, at the church of Saint-Jacques la Boucherie, robbers made their way in during the night, lifted Flamel's tombstone and broke open his coffin. It was after this incident that the rumor spread that the coffin had been found empty, and that it had never contained the body of Flamel, who was supposed to be still alive.
Through whatever means, it is believed Richelieu took possession of the book of Abraham the Jew. He built a laboratory at the Chateau of Rueil, which he often visited to read through the master's manuscripts and to try to interpret the sacred hieroglyphs. But that which a sage like Flamel had been able to understand only after twenty-one years of meditation was not likely to be at once accessible to a politician like Richelieu. Knowledge of the mutations of matter, of life and death, is more complex than the art of planning strategies or administering a kingdom. Richelieu's search gave no good results.
On the death of the cardinal, all traces of the book were lost, or rather, all traces of the text, for the diagrams have often been reproduced. Indeed, the book must have been copied, for it is recorded in the seventeenth century that the author of the Tresor des Recherches et Antiquites Gauloises made a journey to Milan to see a copy which belonged to the Seigneur of Cabrieres. In any case, the mysterious book has now disappeared. Perhaps a copy or the original itself rests under the dust of some provincial library. And it may be that a wise fate will send it at the proper time to a man who has the patience to ponder it, the knowledge to interpret it, the wisdom not to divulge it too soon.
But the mystery of the story of Flamel, which seemed to have come to an end, was revived in the seventeenth century. Louis VIV sent an archeologist named Paul Lucas on a mission to the East. He was to study antiquities and bring back any inscriptions or documents that could help forward the modest scientific efforts then being made in France. A scholar had in those days to be both a soldier and an adventurer. Paul Lucas united in himself the qualities of a Salomon Reinach and a Casanova. He was captured by Barbary corsairs, who robbed him, according to his own story, of the treasures he had brought from Greece and Palestine. The most valuable contribution that this official emissary made to science is summarized in the story he tells in his Voyage dans la Turquie, which he published in 1719. His account enables men of faith to reconstitute part of the history of the book of Abraham the Jew.
The story goes as follows: At Broussa Paul Lucas made the acquaintance of a kind of philosopher, who wore Turkish clothes, spoke almost every known language and, in outward appearance, belonged to the type of man of whom it is said that they " have no age." Thanks to his own cultured presence, Lucas came to know him fairly well, and this is what he learned. This philosopher was a member of a group of seven philosophers, who belonged to no particular country and traveled all over the world, having no other aim than the search for wisdom and their own development. Every twenty years they met at a pre-determined place, which happened that year to be Broussa. According to him, human life ought to have an infinitely longer duration than we admit; the average length should be a thousand years. A man could live a thousand years if he had knowledge of the Philosopher's Stone, which, besides being knowledge of the transmutation of metals, was also knowledge of the Elixir of life. The sages possessed it and kept it for themselves. In the West, there were only a few such sages. Nicolas Flamel had been one of them. Paul Lucas was astonished that a Turk, whom he had met by chance at Broussa, should be familiar with the story of Flamel. He was still more astonished when the Turk told him how the book of Abraham the Jew had come into Flamel's possession, for hitherto no one had known this.
“Abraham the Jew was a member of our group," the man told him. "He had determined not to lose sight of the descendants of his brothers who had taken refuge in France. He had a desire to see them, and in spite of all we could do to dissuade him he went to Paris. He made the acquaintance there of a rabbi who was seeking the Philosopher's Stone, and our friend became intimate with the rabbi and was able to explain much to him. But before he left the country the rabbi, by an act of treachery, killed our brother to get possession of his book and papers. The rabbi was arrested, convicted of this and other crimes and burned alive. The persecution of the Jews in France began not long afterwards, and they were expelled from the country. The book of Abraham was sold to Flamel by a Jewish man who did not know its value and was anxious to get rid of it before leaving Paris. Having discovered the Philosopher's Stone, Flamel was able to remain alive in the physical form he possessed at the time of his discovery. Pernelle's and his own funerals and the minute care he bestowed on the arrangements for them had been nothing but clever shams.”
But the most amazing thing that Paul Lucas heard was the statement made by the Turk that both Flamel and his wife Pernelle were still alive! Having discovered the Philosopher's Stone, Flamel had been able to remain alive in the physical form he possessed at the time of his discovery. Pernelle's and his own funerals and the minute care he bestowed on the arrangements for them had been nothing but clever shams. He had started out for India, the country of the initiates, where he still lived. The publication of Paul Lucas' book created a great sensation. In the seventeenth century, like today, there lived discerning men who believed that all truth came out of the East and that there were in India adepts who possessed powers infinitely greater than those that science so parsimoniously metes out to us. In fact, this is a belief that has existed at every period in modern human history.
Was Nicolas Flamel one of these adepts? Even if he was, can it reasonably be presumed that he was alive three centuries after his supposed death, by virtue of a deeper study than had yet been made of the life force and the means of prolonging it? Is it relevant to compare with Paul Lucas' story another tradition reported by Abbe Vilain, who says that in the seventeenth century, Flamel visited Monsieur Desalleurs, the French ambassador to the Sublime Porte? Every man, according to his feeling for the miraculous, must come to his own conclusion. I think, myself, that in accordance with the wisdom which he had always shown, Nicolas Flamel, after his discovery of the Philosopher's Stone, would have had no temptation to evade death; for he regarded death merely as the transition to a better state. In obeying, without seeking escape, the ancient and simple law that reduces man to dust when the curve of his life is ended, he gave proof of a wisdom that is none the less beautiful for being widespread.
ze testament of flamel
Testament of Nicholas Flamel. London: Printed by J. and E. Hodson... and sold only by the Editor. 1806. [In French and English on facing pages.]
This text is probably a late invention but it is nevertheless interesting for that. I cannot locate a manuscript of the 'Testament', though it was mentioned in Borel's bibliography of alchemy. It was probably written in France in the late 18th century, during the revival of interest in Flamel. It protests too much its authenticity, and gives an unlikely story about how it survived from Flamel's time. Perhaps if the editor (or writer) had just not mentioned anything about its origins they might have better persuaded us about its authenticity. In spite of this it is a clear statement of the alchemical process.
1. I Nicholas Flamel, a scrivener of Paris, in the year 1414, in the reign of our gracious Prince Charles the VIth, whom God preserve; and after the death of my faithful partner Perenelle, am seized with a desire and a delight, in remembrance of her, and in your behalf, dear nephew, to write out the whole magistery of the secret of the Powder of Projection, or the Philosophical Tincture, which God hath willed to impart to his very insignificant servant, and which I have found out, as thou also wilt find out in working as I shall declare unto you.
This text is probably a late invention but it is nevertheless interesting for that. I cannot locate a manuscript of the 'Testament', though it was mentioned in Borel's bibliography of alchemy. It was probably written in France in the late 18th century, during the revival of interest in Flamel. It protests too much its authenticity, and gives an unlikely story about how it survived from Flamel's time. Perhaps if the editor (or writer) had just not mentioned anything about its origins they might have better persuaded us about its authenticity. In spite of this it is a clear statement of the alchemical process.
1. I Nicholas Flamel, a scrivener of Paris, in the year 1414, in the reign of our gracious Prince Charles the VIth, whom God preserve; and after the death of my faithful partner Perenelle, am seized with a desire and a delight, in remembrance of her, and in your behalf, dear nephew, to write out the whole magistery of the secret of the Powder of Projection, or the Philosophical Tincture, which God hath willed to impart to his very insignificant servant, and which I have found out, as thou also wilt find out in working as I shall declare unto you.
2. And for this cause do not forget to pray to God to bestow on thee the understanding of the reason of the truth of nature, which thou wilt see in this book, wherein I have written the secrets word for word, sheet by sheet, and also as I have done and wrought with thy dear aunt Perenelle, whom I very much regret.
3. Take heed before thou workest, to seek the right way as a man of understanding. The reason of nature is Mercury, Sun and Moon, as I have said in my book, in which are those figures which thou seest under the arches of the Innocents at Paris. But I erred greatly upwards of 23 years and a half, in labouring without being able to marry the Moon, that is quicksilver, to the Sun, and to extract from them the seminal dung, which is a deadly poison; for I was then ignorant of the agent or medium, in order to fortify the Mercury: for without this agent, Mercury is as common water.
4. Know in what manner Mercury is to be fortified by a metallic agent, without which it never can penetrate into the belly of the Sun and of the Moon; afterward it must be hardened, which cannot be affected without the sulphureous spirit of gold or silver. You must therefore first open them with a metallic agent, that is to say with royal Saturnia, and afterward you must actuate the Mercury by a philosophic means, that you may afterward by this Mercury dissolve into a liquor gold and Luna, and draw from their putrefaction the generative dung.
5. And know thou, that there is no other way nor means to work in this art, than that which I give thee word for word; an operation, unless it be taught as I now do, not at all easy to perform, but which on the contrary is very difficult to find out.
6. Believe stedfastly, that the whole philosophic industry consists in the preparation of the Mercury of the wise, for in it is the whole of what we are seeking for, and which has always been sought for by all ancient wise men; and that we, no more than they, have done nothing without this Mercury, prepared with Sun or Moon: for without these three, there is nothing in the whole world capable of accomplishing the said philosophical and medicinal tincture. It is expedient then that we learn to extract from them the living and spiritual seed.
7. Aim therefore at nothing but Sun, Moon and Mercury prepared by a philosophical industry, which wets not the hands, but the metal, and which has in itself a metallic sulphureous soul, namely, the ignited light of sulphur. And in order that you may not stray from the right path, apply yourself to metals; for there the aforesaid sulphur is found in all; but thou wilt easily find it, even almost similar to gold, in the cavern and depths of Mars, which is iron, and of Venus, which is copper, nearly as much in the one as in the other; and even if you pay attention to it, this sulphur has the power of tinging moist and cold Luna, which is fine silver, into pure yellow and good Sun; but this ought to be done by a spiritual medium, viz. the key which opens all metals, which I am going to make known to you. Learn therefore, that among the minerals there is one which is a thief, and eats up all except Sun and Moon, who render the thief very good; for when he has them in his belly, he is good to prepare the quicksilver, as I shall presently make known to you.
8. Therefore do not stray out of the right road, but trust to my words, and then give thyself up to the practice, which I am going to bestow on thee in the name of the Father, of Son, and Holy Ghost.
The Practice.
9. Take thou in the first place the eldest or first-born child of Saturn, not the vulgar, 9 parts; of the sabre chalibs of the God of War, 4 parts. Put this latter into a crucible, and when it comes to a melting redness, cast therein the 9 parts of Saturn, and immediately this will redden the other. Cleanse thou carefully the filth that arises on the surface of the saturnia, with saltpetre and tartar, four or five times. The operation will be rightly done when thou seest upon the matter an astral sign like a star.
10. Then is made the key and the sabre, which opens and cuts through all metals, but chiefly Sun, Moon and Venus, which it eats, devours and keeps in his belly, and by this means thou art in the right road of truth, if thou has operated properly. For this Saturnia is the royal triumphant herb, for it is a little imperfect king, whom we raise up by a philosophic artifice to the degree of the greatest glory and honour. It is also the queen, that is to say the Moon and the wife of the Sun: it is therefore both male and female, and our hermaphrodite Mercury. This Mercury or Saturnia is represented in the seven first pages of the book of Abraham the Jew, by two serpent encircling a golden rod. Take care to prepare a sufficient quantity of it, for much is required, that is to say about 12 or 13 lbs. of it, or even more, according as you wish to work on a large or a small scale.
11. Marry thou therefore the young god Mercury, that is to say quicksilver with this which is the philosophic Mercury, that you may acuate by him and fortify the said running quicksilver, seven or even ten or eleven times with the said agent, which is called the key, or a steel sharpened sabre, for it cuts, scythes and penetrates all the bodies of the metals. Then wilt thou have the double and treble water represented by the rose tree in the book of Abraham the Jew, which issues out of the foot of an oak, namely our Saturnia, which is the royal key, and goes to precipitate itself into the abyss, as says the same author, that is to say, into the receiver, adapted to the neck of the retort, where the double Mercury throws itself by means of a suitable fire.
12. But here are found thorns and insuperable difficulties, unless God reveals this secret, or a master bestows it. For Mercury does not marry with royal Saturnia: it is experient to find a secret means to unite them: for unless thou knowest the artifice by which this union and peace are effected between these aforesaid argent-vives, you will do nothing to any purpose. I would not conceal any thing from thee, my dear nephew; I tell thee, therefore, that without Sun or Moon this work will profit thee nothing. Thou must therefore cause this old man, or voracious wolf, to devour gold or silver in the weight and measure as I am now about to inform thee. Listen therefore to my words, that thou mayest not err, as I have done in this work. I say, therefore, that you must give gold to our old dragon to eat. Remark how well you ought to operate. For if you give but little gold to the melted Saturnia, the gold is indeed opened, but the quicksilver will not take; and here is an incongruity, which is not at all profitable. I have a long while and greatly laboured in this affliction, before I found out the means to succeed in it. If therefore you give him much gold to devour, the gold will not indeed be so much opened nor disposed, but then it will take the quicksilver, and they will both marry. Thus the means is discovered. Conceal this secret, for it is the whole, and neither trust it to paper, or to any thing else which may be seen. For we should become the cause of great mischief. I give it thee under the seal of secrecy and of thy conscience, for the love I bear thee.
13. Take thou ten ounces of the red Sun, that is to so say, very fine, clean and purified nine or ten times by means of the voracious wolf alone: two ounces of the royal Saturnia; melt this in a crucible, and when it is melted, cast into it the ten ounces of fine gold; melt these two together, and stir them with a lighted charcoal. Then will thy gold be a little opened. Pour it on a marble slab or into an iron mortar, reduce it to a powder, and grind it well with three pounds of quicksilver. Make them to curd like cheese, in the grinding and working them to and fro: wash this amalgama with pure common water until it comes out clear, and that the whole mass appears clear and white like fine Luna. The conjunction of the gold with the royal golden Saturnia is effected, when the mass is soft to the touch like butter.
14. Take this mass, which thou wilt gently dry with linen or fine cloth, with great care: this is our lead, and our mass of Sun and Moon, not the vulgar, but the philosophical. Put it into a good retort of crucible earth, but much better of steel. Place the retort in a furnace, and adapt a receiver to it: give fire by degrees. Two hours after encrease your fire so that the Mercury may pass into the receiver: this Mercury is the water of the blowing rose-tree; it is also the blood of the innocents slain in the book of Abraham the Jew. You may now suppose that this Mercury has eat up a little of the body of the king, and that it will have much more strength to dissolve the other part of it hereafter, which will be more covered by the body of the Saturnia. Thou has now ascended one degree or step of the ladder of the art.
15. Take the faeces out of the retort; melt them in a crucible in a strong fire: cast into it four ounces of the Saturnia, (and) nine ounces of the Sun. Then the Sun is expanded in the said faeces, and much more opened that at the first time, as the Mercury has more vigour than before, it will have the strength and virtue of penetrating the gold, and of eating more of it, and of filling his belly with it by degrees. Operate therefore as at first; marry the aforesaid Mercury, stronger one degree with this new mass in grinding the whole together; they will take like butter and cheese; wash and grind them several times, until all the blackness is got out: dry it as aforesaid; put the whole into the retort, and operate as thou didst before, by giving during two hours, a weak fire, and then strong, sufficient to drive out, and cause the Mercury to fall into the receiver; then wilt thou have the Mercury still more acuated, and thou wilt have ascended to the second degree of the philosophic ladder.
16. Repeat the same work, by casting in the Saturnia in due weight, that is to say, by degrees, and operating as before, till thou hast reached the 10th step of the philosophic ladder; then take thy rest. For the aforesaid Mercury is ignited, acuated, wholly engrossed and full of the male sulphur, and fortified with the astral juice which was in the deep bowels of the gold and of our saturnine dragon. Be assured that I am now writing for thee things which by no philosopher was ever declared or written. For this Mercury is the wonderful caduceus, of which the sages have so much spoken in their books, and which they attest has the power of itself of accomplishing the philosophic work, and they say the truth, as I have done it myself by it alone, and thou wilt be enabled to do it thyself, if thou art so disposed: for it is this and none else which is the proximate matter and the root of all the metals.
17. Now is done and accomplished the preparation of the Mercury, rendered cuting and proper to dissolve into its nature gold and silver, to work out naturally and simply the Philosophic Tincture, or the powder transmuting all metals into gold and silver.
18. Some believe they have the whole magistery, when they have the heavenly Mercury prepared; but they are grossly deceived. It is for this cause they find thorns before they pluck the rose, for want of understanding. It is true indeed, that were they to understand the weight, the regimen of the fire, and the suitable way, they would not have much to do, and could not fail even if they would. But in this art there is a way to work. Learn therefore and observe well how to operate, in the manner I am about to relate to you.
19. In the name of God, thou shalt take of thy animated Mercury what quantity thou pleasest; thou wilt put it into a glass vessel by itself; or two or four parts of the Mercury with two parts of the golden Saturnia; that is to say, one of the Sun and two of the Saturnia; the whole finely conjoined like butter, washed, cleansed and dried; and thou wilt lute thy vessel with the lute of wisdom. Place it in a furnace on warm ashes at the degree of the heat of an hen sitting on her eggs. Leave this said Mercury so prepared to ascend and descend for the space of 40 or 50 days, until thou seest forming in thy vessel a white or red sulphur, called philosophic sublimate, which issues out of the reins of the said Mercury. Thou wilt collect this sulphur with a feather: it is the living Sun and the living Moon, which Mercury begets out of itself.
20. Take this white or red sulphur, triturate it in a glass or marble mortar, and pour on it, in sprinking it, a third part of its weight of the Mercury from which this sulphur has been drawn. With these two make a paste like butter: put again this mixture into an oval glass; place it in a furnace on a suitable fire of ashes, mild, and disposed with a philosophic industry. Concoct until the said Mercury is changed into sulphur, and during this coction, thou wilt see wonderful things in thy vessel, that is to say, all the colours which exist in the world, which thou canst not behold without lifting up thy heart to God in gratitude for so great a gift.
21. When thou has attained to the purple red, thou must gather it: for then the alchymical powder is made, transmuting every metal into fine pure and neat gold, which thou maist multiply by watering it as thou hast already done, grinding it with fresh Mercury, concocting it in the same vessel, furnace and fire, and the time will be much shorter, and its virtue ten times stronger.
22. This then is the whole magistery done with Mercury alone, which some do not believe to be true, because they are weak and stupid, and not at all able to comprehend this work.
23. Shouldest thou desire to operate in another way, take of fine Sun in fine powder or in very thin leaves: make a paste of it with 7 parts of thy philosophic Mercury, which is our Luna: put them both into an oval glass vessel well luted; place it in a furnace; give a very strong fire, that is to say, such as will keep lead in fusion; for then thou has found out the true regimen of the fire; and let thy Mercury, which is the philosophical wind, ascend and descend on the body of the gold, which it eats up by degrees, and carries in its belly. Concoct it until the gold amd Mercury do no more ascend and descend, but both remain quiet, and then will peace and union be effected between the two dragons, which are fire and water both together.
24. Then wilt thou see in thy vessel a great blackness like that of melted pitch, which is the sign of the death and putrefaction of the gold, and the key of the whole magistery. Cause it therefore to resuscitate by concocting it, and be not weary with concocting it: during this period divers changes will take place; that is to say, the matter will pass through all the colours, the black, the ash colour, the blue, the green, the white, the orange, and finally the red as red as blood or the crimson poppy: aim only at this last colour; for it is the true sulphur, and the alchymical powder. I say nothing precisely about the time; for that depends on the industry of the artist; but thou canst not fail, by working as I have shewn.
25. If thou are disposed to multiply thy powder, take one part thereof, and water it with two parts of thy animated Mercury; make it into a soft and smooth paste; put it in a vessel as thou hast already done, in the same furnace and fire, and concoct it. This second turn of the philosophic wheel will be done in less time than the first, and thy powder will have ten times more strength. Let is wheel about again even a thousand times, and as much as thou wilt. Thou wilt then have a treasure without price, superior to all there is in the world, and thou canst desire nothing more here below, for thou hast both health and riches, if thou useth them properly.
26. Thou hast now the treasure of all worldly felicity, which I a poor country clown of Pointoise did accomplish three times in Paris, in my house, in the street des Ecrivains, near the chapel of St. Jacques de la Boucherie, and which I Flammel give thee, for the love I bear thee, to the honour of God, for His glory, for the praise of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
The French correspondent [who had provided the French version to the editor for translation into English for this publication of 1806] adds: "This is what I find at the end of the Manuscript"'
They assert that the original of this work was written upon the margin of a vellum Psalm-book, in Nicholas Flamel's own handwriting in favour of his nephew. The process was written in cyphers, the better to conceal the secret. Each letter was shaped in four different ways, so that to make up the whole alphabet therewith 96 letters were employed. Father Pernetti and Monsieur de Saint Marc decyphered this writing with much difficulty. M. de St. Marc was on the point of giving it up; but Father Pernetti, who had already found out the vowels, encouraged him to go on with the work, which they at last overcame, with complete success, about the year 1758.
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