Writing is easy. It is about truth.
I tried to fall asleep but I could not because I did not know what a woman is.
Sleepy eyes. My eyes are droopy. They cannot see the truth anymore and they do not know if there was a truth to see. Are my eyes closed or did the world disappear?
Writing is easy. It is about the truth.
The truth is that people are miserable. Boredom. Hope. Pain. The future, the past. The eyes of others.
More than anything a bureaucracy will make you bored. That is its true victory. It does not frustrate you so much as it lulls you to sleep; it makes you believe there is not even a world out there to interact with, to engage. We thus wander the streets believing ourselves to not be in conflict; and thus we lose the conflict.
Is society different? So many people, living lives of mimicry, subtly believing that we must be progressing. They do not know that each life starts all over again, has its own responsibility to be alive. No one believes that. So what does it mean?
Sex. Let our bodies collide. Then we will make money and have each other and grow sad as we grow old but before then we will be able to float through the moderate pleasures of life and grin as we have forgotten anything else that was worth fighting for. Many people do not believe me when I say I will never be an adult.
Whenever people fall apart I think, why didn't they fight? Why didn't they fight to keep it going, to make it right? Why didn't they try their hardest to let the other person know they love them? What could be more important to them? Than loving others?
You think you are writing about the truth but you are not. Each life is directed by a flow of actuality, the under-the-water mechanics of a soul, and we can only find it if we ask for it again and again, falling to our knees in darkened rooms, screaming in whispers, asking something we do not know to reveal it to us.
I feel like I've lost a lot. Maybe if I had had more time to study I would be making a bigger impact on people? That's probably a lie. Why haven't I done more with what I have? Perhaps because I feel pulled in many different directions.
At work: 'The worst part about thinking about what is keeping you from getting what you want is when you realize it's that you don't even know what it is.'
I am wailed at all day long. He called it 'noise'. Oh, these voices. They crush me into inactivity. They tell me more was possible with one person, they call the life of another a waste of time. Then they curse me for thinking about others in this way; they say 'follow anyone long enough, and you would see a soul there'. They think about all of life and I stare wide-eyed, paralyzed. They wonder if other people really think what they are after is good, the good. So much stretching, so much strain. If only I had stayed funny, stayed upbeat. What people believe matters for what they will hope in; what they will hope in for what they will create.
What is the right reason to marry? Because of being known? Or just someone to try really hard with, to love? Because you want them around you a lot? How does it work?
I thought of a scene earlier of a girl and a guy together. The girl looked to the guy and said 'Describe your perfect girl'. And he would describe her and then she would say: 'I'm not her'. Then the girl would describe her perfect guy and he would say: 'I'm not him'. Then they would hug and decide to love each other and not expect the other person to change, to not judge them by what they were not, to know they are in line to love a real out-there-in-the-world, their-own-thinking-and-deciding person, and that we are only haunted by spectres of perfection, but we are instead given so much more.
You are not your potential or your thoughts or your past. You are your time; spend it creating, living, trying. Do not spend it in death, in lying around and feeling the pain of lost things.
I thought of everything, I thought of Max scenes, but mostly I thought 'what is a woman?'
I had been drifting off to sleep, perhaps getting tireder, when suddenly it struck me: I am going to die.
My eyes burst wide awake.