We rarely attain to moments of clarity (or maturity) sufficient to acknowledge the extent to which all of our identities are really and at base quite thoroughly and irredeemably fictional. All definitions of identity are made (and justified) by and in reference to other definitions and those themselves rest similarly upon yet more definitions in […]
What is life but a long string of melancholy pearls upon which we paint our purposes and interpretations that like the minds that carry them are all just so many dusty Autumnal leaves in time, shackled to an emptiness and eternity that is unknowing and blind, disregarding of our hopes and aspirations, our dreams. We […]
Should we be afraid that to discover that there is no intrinsic meaning to our dreams is also to unfurl some great banner of revelatory catharsis pronouncing our own essential non-existence ?
We live through each other or not at all.
The world will continue unravelling, with or without me…
It can be simultaneously entertaining and cathartic to dream improbable dreams…
