Abstract thought disposal
Alone lies beyond lonely, free of values and emotion. It is pure, awesome and awful, the biggest coldest fucking. I fill the nothingness surrounding me with anything really, but I prefer very big themes.
Art comes to those who can hold alone within them, see beyond the illusion, recognize that they are part of the yawning void, feel it as their destiny and maybe even love it a little. Art is coping with that.
I may arrive, but I doubt there is a destination. I can console myself. As always, pork rinds, chicharrones, remain delicious and available.
---
Art comes to those who can hold alone within them, see beyond the illusion, recognize that they are part of the yawning void, feel it as their destiny and maybe even love it a little. Art is coping with that.
I may arrive, but I doubt there is a destination. I can console myself. As always, pork rinds, chicharrones, remain delicious and available.
---
Labels: Cheech-ah-RONE-ace (pronounce with tip of tongue touching back of top of mouth where it tickles)
posted by JMH | 8:55 PM
8 Comments:
We're already constantly arriving.
I love being alone. :)
Better than constantly departing, jorg, although we're already that too. I suppose. I don't know.
sybil, yeah, it can be peaceful.
Alone as the instance before death sounds like a powerful meditation.
It makes me uncomfortable to say aloud.
Thanks for asking, I am well. And back again on the blog.
That's good. I don't like it when people go away.
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