I will go beyond rhetoric
I will quit wasting time, and it would almost be better if I avoided mentioning this undertaking altogether. There has long been synchronization: the more I say what I'll do, the less likely I am to do it, if only because I fail in the initial surge to do it, and subsequently the difficulty of the endeavor is instilled in memory. It would I think be easier if I were with my old passion, film; film not only does not require isolation, but encourages community, draws folks out to watch what you are. Literature and writing demand knowledge of social interaction, yet draw one away from it by definition.
But there is still a place, as there always has been, for statements in the world. The only change, truly, is discovery, a discovery humanity has never had nor been able to embrace, a completely new awakening of awareness. Things are as they have always been, or if anything, they are better. We know more, quite simply, and know more of what we cannot know. But this should not push literature to the background, as in a time when we know how little we can know, when better to embrace the revelatory art which gives us a fresh perspective?
It could be argued, though I would say weakly, that literature because it asks questions and reveals the impossibility of Truth, is no longer wanted, for we already know how little we can know. However, our awareness of limit is a result of an excess of knowledge, and [good] literature not only brings new knowledge to the table in the form of perspective, but reveals just how little we truly know things, gives us more to learn about ourselves.
It is not a fabricated pleasantness, to convince myself to live positive; the inverse approach shows the folly of doubting positivity: if I go to the extreme, as I have for many years, and say that I must live as "truthfully" as possible, and see as many horrific things as possible --for they exist, they must be acknowledged as a part or possible part of human existence and therefore it is false to ignore them-- the extreme development of this is absurd. I would live tortured, invariably. There is also good: why mustn't I also experience the extremes of that? I call it good, though it is subjective entirely; this reveals my inclination towards it. Why else would I call it "good"? I have experienced its profound benefit. Disregarding those relatively few who have, in an honest sense, said that the search for honest truth is the goal of life, who has ever said that the gathering and collecting of experience is more truthful than living how one wants, how it pleases one?
In conclusion: one is dead, or alive. It is never worth worrying about one while amidst the other. This has applications in actual death and the apparent possible death of ideas. I am through wasting time.
But there is still a place, as there always has been, for statements in the world. The only change, truly, is discovery, a discovery humanity has never had nor been able to embrace, a completely new awakening of awareness. Things are as they have always been, or if anything, they are better. We know more, quite simply, and know more of what we cannot know. But this should not push literature to the background, as in a time when we know how little we can know, when better to embrace the revelatory art which gives us a fresh perspective?
It could be argued, though I would say weakly, that literature because it asks questions and reveals the impossibility of Truth, is no longer wanted, for we already know how little we can know. However, our awareness of limit is a result of an excess of knowledge, and [good] literature not only brings new knowledge to the table in the form of perspective, but reveals just how little we truly know things, gives us more to learn about ourselves.
It is not a fabricated pleasantness, to convince myself to live positive; the inverse approach shows the folly of doubting positivity: if I go to the extreme, as I have for many years, and say that I must live as "truthfully" as possible, and see as many horrific things as possible --for they exist, they must be acknowledged as a part or possible part of human existence and therefore it is false to ignore them-- the extreme development of this is absurd. I would live tortured, invariably. There is also good: why mustn't I also experience the extremes of that? I call it good, though it is subjective entirely; this reveals my inclination towards it. Why else would I call it "good"? I have experienced its profound benefit. Disregarding those relatively few who have, in an honest sense, said that the search for honest truth is the goal of life, who has ever said that the gathering and collecting of experience is more truthful than living how one wants, how it pleases one?
In conclusion: one is dead, or alive. It is never worth worrying about one while amidst the other. This has applications in actual death and the apparent possible death of ideas. I am through wasting time.