I didn't feel a thing when you told me that you didn't feel a thing...
"I have this realization that all my conscious life I've treated myself as a given thing incommensurate with the world and I've tried by the framing of myself in relation to it--my clothes, my friends, that which I profess, my self-description, mood-changing substances--to find some placement, to thread myself in if even by protesting, and it is impossible. It occurs to me that I've gone about it backwards--there is no way that I can remake the world, even only the bubble of aura surrounding me, so that it corrects by corresponding to my chiding fear and yearning for comfort and dominion, the will of the world would no be remade even it its smallest part by any being, but already by virtue of birth I am a vein and current of it and all and the only thing to do is the be that with some kind of humility and gratitude. The world itself is interesting, much more interesting than I who am merely one minuscule capillary in and of it. We think it's glamorous to assert ourselves when in fact it's only foolish and sad and obviously futile. (But this is a judgment too, which have no right to make...)"
Richard Hell = Taoist?
(Someone borrow Go Now. And read it fast and give it back. You won't regret it.)
In other news, I'm thisclose to resorting to bisexuality. Gay guys at Oberlin (including myself) tend toward fuckwittage.
The End.
Richard Hell = Taoist?
(Someone borrow Go Now. And read it fast and give it back. You won't regret it.)
In other news, I'm thisclose to resorting to bisexuality. Gay guys at Oberlin (including myself) tend toward fuckwittage.
The End.