For a dozen years I have had no fixed point. I changed my place almost every year, with a mixed feeling of fear and excitement. Rarely work: I fled my own shadow. I also wanted to have a normal life, study, meet a girl. I especially wanted me to find a vocation that I had not. I did nothing but fail miserably hoping madly, every time, never fail. But all these failures, until last me closer myself. Little predisposed to succeed physically, I was to understand that failure is the only fundamental experience, that affects us all and our hobby is to camouflage it. I know of no example of success, what we call success. Success itself is a failure in human terms: one is dehumanized, it is not interested in self and others, eventually taken to an object (eg sports), not to live than surrounded by similar objects, develop hobbies (collection, horror of late). The invention of contempt is due to work, the manifestation of the victory of the rich over the poor, Loss of spirituality against the vice inherent in any small animal. It's simple: we can not succeed, we must fail, ie stay at a human level and in many ways, ridiculous. Love is a passion, torment the couple, the children in an accident, the marriage another chimera, a coffin for men, a concern more for women, all else fails, everything breaks, is breaks, crumbles, just like our body connection.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
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must remain where it has failed
The modern world is nervous and frantic by definition. This nervousness does not indicate a disorder, a flight to be. It should stay where it has failed ... In the countryside, in the Yonne, I no longer feel the desire to go anywhere. I want to stay here and die here. Men are the same everywhere, the landscape eventually look like. People in my village are no more or no less interesting than the other exceptional. The taste of travel is a disease contemporary allowed only by developing the technique, which is madness. In most cases, we move because we are clinging to our needs, needs that exist in our time. Need to work, need to consume, communicate, need to flee, breathing, need for recreation, services and objects. Any part of a liberating intent, everything is transformed in need. We are the animal provided a minimum of Creation, we can not do anything without the objects! We can not stand the cold, our body can not rest solely on the ground. Our hands are never free but always occupied by some object, gear, gizmo. Food, clothing, work, requires all utensils and gadgets. Today, even to meet, there is art! The technique gives us the illusion of strength when we are ridiculously low. Deprived of the technique, we would be afraid of cows and dogs! Needs command us, not vice versa.
For a dozen years I have had no fixed point. I changed my place almost every year, with a mixed feeling of fear and excitement. Rarely work: I fled my own shadow. I also wanted to have a normal life, study, meet a girl. I especially wanted me to find a vocation that I had not. I did nothing but fail miserably hoping madly, every time, never fail. But all these failures, until last me closer myself. Little predisposed to succeed physically, I was to understand that failure is the only fundamental experience, that affects us all and our hobby is to camouflage it. I know of no example of success, what we call success. Success itself is a failure in human terms: one is dehumanized, it is not interested in self and others, eventually taken to an object (eg sports), not to live than surrounded by similar objects, develop hobbies (collection, horror of late). The invention of contempt is due to work, the manifestation of the victory of the rich over the poor, Loss of spirituality against the vice inherent in any small animal. It's simple: we can not succeed, we must fail, ie stay at a human level and in many ways, ridiculous. Love is a passion, torment the couple, the children in an accident, the marriage another chimera, a coffin for men, a concern more for women, all else fails, everything breaks, is breaks, crumbles, just like our body connection.
For a dozen years I have had no fixed point. I changed my place almost every year, with a mixed feeling of fear and excitement. Rarely work: I fled my own shadow. I also wanted to have a normal life, study, meet a girl. I especially wanted me to find a vocation that I had not. I did nothing but fail miserably hoping madly, every time, never fail. But all these failures, until last me closer myself. Little predisposed to succeed physically, I was to understand that failure is the only fundamental experience, that affects us all and our hobby is to camouflage it. I know of no example of success, what we call success. Success itself is a failure in human terms: one is dehumanized, it is not interested in self and others, eventually taken to an object (eg sports), not to live than surrounded by similar objects, develop hobbies (collection, horror of late). The invention of contempt is due to work, the manifestation of the victory of the rich over the poor, Loss of spirituality against the vice inherent in any small animal. It's simple: we can not succeed, we must fail, ie stay at a human level and in many ways, ridiculous. Love is a passion, torment the couple, the children in an accident, the marriage another chimera, a coffin for men, a concern more for women, all else fails, everything breaks, is breaks, crumbles, just like our body connection.
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