“More and more individuals, owing to their bloodless indolence, will aspire to be nothing at all—in order to become the public.”
Søren Kierkegaard, The Present Age, in The Present Age, and Of the Difference Between a Genius and an Apostle, tr. A. Dru (London: The Fontana Library, 1962), p.72.
4 comments:
That's really rather good. What does that make DearieMe the Wicked?
The portion of matter that constitutes me has always existed, and shall exist until the end of time. I, however, am not immortal, for I am not only this handful of matter but a specific configuration of it. This configuration makes me different from the whole, at least for now. That is to be. Hence, it provides me no confort to know that what I'm made of is eternal, for it is not myself.
I find it odd that most buddhists and new agers seek a state of non-existence, which is just another way to put 'the conjunction with the whole or with the uno'; their paradise is death itself, they just don't realize it. I fear that every particular view of mine that I abdicate from everyday is a breath less I take until, eventually, the last one comes long before I stop really breathing. To become the public, to compose, is to no longer exist, it is, as said before, to die.
We all drink Caesar's piss.
We will take this as your confession?
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