Something of Myself
Friday, September 16, 2005
Arbitary - Random
Feeling so much that its almost overwhelming. Overdose. Can we ever really be happy? What is taste? What is smell? What is sight? What are the senses? What is consciousness? The sense of being perhaps. But then again, Being is not just 'being', is it? Its about so much more. Mostly about desire. Sorry, desire spelt with a capital D!
Desire.
It was Winterson, wasn't it who said, Desire is like a waiter watching you all the while as you eat? Voyeuristic, is it? But what fascinates me is the ineluctability of it. Yeah, Joyce. What was it, ineluctable sense of modality?
The mind is going greyer, day by day. So difficult to remember these days. Feel like just living in the present. For today. As if yesterday were a lie. And tomorrow a dream. The reality - in-between. That is where the truth lies. The joy of living. Forever straddling two worlds. Never belonging. Displaced. Dislocated. Dysfunctional. But alive. More alive than you and me.
It's about beauty. It's about truth. It's about the only truth. It's about life. About death. About what we have forever struggled to define - real (ity).
Think about it. I have.
Feeling so much that its almost overwhelming. Overdose. Can we ever really be happy? What is taste? What is smell? What is sight? What are the senses? What is consciousness? The sense of being perhaps. But then again, Being is not just 'being', is it? Its about so much more. Mostly about desire. Sorry, desire spelt with a capital D!
Desire.
It was Winterson, wasn't it who said, Desire is like a waiter watching you all the while as you eat? Voyeuristic, is it? But what fascinates me is the ineluctability of it. Yeah, Joyce. What was it, ineluctable sense of modality?
The mind is going greyer, day by day. So difficult to remember these days. Feel like just living in the present. For today. As if yesterday were a lie. And tomorrow a dream. The reality - in-between. That is where the truth lies. The joy of living. Forever straddling two worlds. Never belonging. Displaced. Dislocated. Dysfunctional. But alive. More alive than you and me.
It's about beauty. It's about truth. It's about the only truth. It's about life. About death. About what we have forever struggled to define - real (ity).
Think about it. I have.
1 Comments:
know the feeling. its one of those days. PLEASE turn of the word verification ... i beg you!
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