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| Molten Ash Posts: 68 | skimming [or scamming] on the surface Fernando Pessoa from The Book of Disquiet "No one understands anyone else. We are, as the poet said, islands in the sea of life, between us flows the sea that defines us and separates us. However one should strive to know another, he can know only what is told to him by a word---a shapeless shadow on the ground of his understanding. "I love expressions, because I know nothing of what they express. I'm like the master of St Martha: I'm satisfied with what I've been given. I see, and that's quite enough. Who can understand anything? "Perhaps it's this scepticism vis-a-vis our understanding that makes me look at a tree and a face, a poster and a smile, in exactly the same way. [Everything is natural, everything artificial, everything equal.] Everything I see is merely the visible, whether it be the lofty blue sky tinted wioth the whitish green of a pre-dawn morning, or the false frown on a face of someone suffering the death of a loved one before witnesses. "Sketches, illustrations, pages we look at and then turn...My heart isn't in them, and my gaze merely passes over them on the outside like a fly over a sheet of paper. "Do I even know if I feel, if I think, if I exist? I know only that there is an objective scheme of colors, shapes and expressions of which I'm the useless shifting mirror for sale." There are people who reach this point almost from the start. There are people it kind of creeps up on over the years. And when it does their reactions can range from an exhilarated sense of being liberated to a suffocating sense of terror and despair. Most however never reach this point at all. Some of course begin to get an inkling of it and do everything in their power to make it go away. With words, for example. They trade one surface for another. Some even become philosophers and call this evasion wisdom. The define the sea, they define the islands; then they analyze the relationship between the two until they become one. And in the end all that really matters is whether or not it works. What happens, however, when you refuse to evade what lurks behind the words but can no longer be satisfied with what you are given; because it has, instead, transfigured into what you have become? What if what you see isn't enough anymore? Then you either live with it or you don't. And it's not like the sea gives a crap, right? rp |
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