the land of darkness and sorrow
i went out driving in the mountains this afternoon, with my buddies wolfgang and giacomo. my vw rolled over 90,000 km, and i tried to absorb the images of the foothills covered in pale green pasture and dark green and bright yellow trees. autumn is so beautiful that i ache. later on, i stopped for the worst americano that i've paid money for and finished reading joe conrad. and now i'm making irish stew, so i have lunch this week at work. does anyone know of a less laborious way to peel pearl onions? i certainly do not.
everybody shows a respectful deference to certain sounds that he and his fellows can make. but about feelings people really know nothing. we talk with indignation or enthusiasm; we talk about oppression, cruelty, crime, devotion, self-sacrifice, virtue, and we know nothing real beyond the words. nobody knows what suffering or sacrifice mean - except, perhaps the victims of the mysterious purpose of these illusions. - joseph conrad, from "an outpost of progress"
everybody shows a respectful deference to certain sounds that he and his fellows can make. but about feelings people really know nothing. we talk with indignation or enthusiasm; we talk about oppression, cruelty, crime, devotion, self-sacrifice, virtue, and we know nothing real beyond the words. nobody knows what suffering or sacrifice mean - except, perhaps the victims of the mysterious purpose of these illusions. - joseph conrad, from "an outpost of progress"