(no subject)
gleanings from my notebook pt 2.
---
is there sickness in my desire? do i perceive a gap between what he is to me and what he is in real life? does he differ from the conception I have of him?
i identify the real with my objects of desire. this is so so so wrong.
---
I remember vividly, on September 23rd when I was driving back from New Hampshire after visiting friends, being incredibly aware of the ephemeral nature of life, and how absurd it truly is. I have long considered my life to be absolutely injected with purpose. This purpose is something that I some how tricked myself into believing was real, and there, and almost palpable. I knew I was going to go to school, I knew I was going to be an artist and I knew that I was going to make things change.
In reality, this is highly unlikely to happen, and I will come and go just as everyone else has come and gone before me. In the scope of history and of time, my existence is a pencil mark among billions, a grain of sand. It is nothing and minute, and our lives are not infused with whatever purpose we try and give them. This in itself is a great lie we tell, and a great lie I have told to myself. Ever since that point in time, where I decided to find the truth- regardless of the difficulty, Intellectually, spiritually and sometimes even mentally, I can no longer feel the walls.
---
---
is there sickness in my desire? do i perceive a gap between what he is to me and what he is in real life? does he differ from the conception I have of him?
i identify the real with my objects of desire. this is so so so wrong.
---
I remember vividly, on September 23rd when I was driving back from New Hampshire after visiting friends, being incredibly aware of the ephemeral nature of life, and how absurd it truly is. I have long considered my life to be absolutely injected with purpose. This purpose is something that I some how tricked myself into believing was real, and there, and almost palpable. I knew I was going to go to school, I knew I was going to be an artist and I knew that I was going to make things change.
In reality, this is highly unlikely to happen, and I will come and go just as everyone else has come and gone before me. In the scope of history and of time, my existence is a pencil mark among billions, a grain of sand. It is nothing and minute, and our lives are not infused with whatever purpose we try and give them. This in itself is a great lie we tell, and a great lie I have told to myself. Ever since that point in time, where I decided to find the truth- regardless of the difficulty, Intellectually, spiritually and sometimes even mentally, I can no longer feel the walls.
---