"I'd like to lose interest in myself," I told Murray. "Is there any chance of that happening?"
"None. Better men have tried."
"I guess you're right."
"It's obvious."
From White Noise, by Don DeLillo
Art and beauty are always challenging And changing in my eye, and I awkwardly Pursue them as a dog chases his tail. The circles Get faster and tighter until I fall breathless For a moment to find my balance and look dizzily Around at the people standing just outside Reach, watching the show. When my head clears Just enough and I try to engage one or two on any level Of consequence, my peripheral vision tempts me back To the inevitable spinning in auto-erotic ignorance To the disengaging world orbiting oblivious of and around me. And I pull off my socks and crawl Back into the bed with thoughts Of the things we failed to accomplish that Single day of effort, and of the stresses coming In the intimidating morning. With the slight Touches of sleeping energy I pass into A tooth-grinding few hours on the rolling clouds. All the while, protestations are saved For ears that may hear, For times that are not obvious In a future that is accelerating its arrival
We all long for the perfect bodies of youth And the way of thinking that pulls The simple needs out of the chaos To a forefront of the primitive time It never felt close to over, And the slide is only in confiding That there is yet more in hope. And in constant redesign, the planning Illustrates itself as another lighted act But the will to learn the right Catches up at last, consuming The veil used effectively To keep the reason primary And this new design is hardly ours. While we thought to create the better way, The real weight is upon us, needs are honest And finally the feeling of completion Confides the end of the internal design Has arrived
"Basically, I no longer work for anything but the sensation I have while working."
"Everything that is known is comprehended not according to its own nature, but according to the ability to know of those who do the knowing."
"All are lunatics, but he who can analyze his delusion is called a philosopher."
- Ambrose Bierce (1842-1914)
"I think that naming your ignorance God and pretending that, having named it, you have converted ignorance to knowledge is a sorry approach to the unknown."
Sorry, nothing factual here.
Sorry, this perception is what guides us
Sorry, this causes me to open my eyes wider than is necessary
Sorry, this seeing is my believing but only unconsciously
Sorry, nothing factual here
Move along now. Nothing here of interest
Move along
But come back
Soon
And bring cookies.
(and I promise to stay in the daylogs...I promise)