Just bringing old notebook notations online. This will take a while.
Entry from 20.10.04. Notebook: Moleskine
Yes, it is the wake of the deeds from dark places that I am in and tremble with fear. And I always end the fuck with Y and the big :-)? It is the flight of all flights that I know believe is coming to an end. The flight to be me or someone else. I only regret at the end this war is that I didn’t take more stupidity out with me. I honestly don’t know what happened there. Something obviously did. I suppose there is so much stupidity, thick ominous, made by someone or something to be sweet and juicy. Oh, if there only were a bit more devilish whim. But even he has left us alone. And so. Here I stand or sit, the ground moving below my feet in order to give the muses an impression they are mobilized, and wonder at the body count I’ve left behind. There is also the issue of dark places. A very significant issue sense, ultimately, it is the origin of all human existence. I mean, if there is any attainable perspective here, then it must be obvious why so many of us are afraid of the dark. It is the place we’ve been picked at, one by one, and thrown down a long too. Misnomer of light at the end of the tunnel can be muted here if only everyone were better equipped mentally and not so fixated on mobility. And so, logically, it is no wonder that so many people go through life as though it were meant to be survived and not live. This is part of the war I am ending. Attrition the main course of my joyous ending. If I continue to fight survival will eventually get the upper hand and I’ll join some ranks or level of homeowner, who knows, maybe I’ll even own car. Or all acquiesce. Living with nothing has been a wonderful outlet during war. It is an obvious choice. So I suppose the issue is, is it my choice? I wish there were a precedents I could look too. A case of law maybe where I could find perspective. I’m sure somewhere in the dungeons of libraries there are the writings about a woman’s choice. I mean how has she made them? History has been turned, kneaded and wriggled, with the welcome devilish influence of woman. Yet credit must be given where it’s due. She, woman, has made many more choices than men. There is a resilience there we must not leave to collect dust. But how can the male psyche harness (the same) power? Yes, again, woman is free because of the choices she has made in (our) history. And yet all men do is wage war between survival and living. Oh, how cumbersome the cosmos must see us. I wonder if I’ll miss the trembling. There are some things in life which are free. Fear is certainly one of them. And it is everywhere, like air. But the price paid compared to the commodity received… Oh, the limits of economic formulation.