Bending backwards to track myself, I repeatedly find myself with a sore back. Moreover, the idea of hunting oneself is slightly repulsive. So, must I quit this non-sense? What would that mean? I don’t believe I know of another honest manner of being in the world. Would I not just be doing it, even when I was choosing another method?
No. I can be an artist! Oh, the glory of committing oneself to nothingness! It’s not even nothing. I mean it’s nothing. There’s no statement. You get to spit in the face of the philosopher, and not only act like you don’t see it---you literally can’t see it. Uhhnn! Yeah! Eat that talkface! I can’t see you and I have no idea—what that means!
The comedian knows though, so he’s the worst. I can't do that. He’s too much of a bitch to actually practice thinking, so he just chooses randomly.
Ooh, but the politician knows too! Yes, but he actually admits what he wants (to himself) and then he picks. I don’t get the politician; how does he think he really knows? He just says it really hard?
And the rhetorician? He’s always talking and writing essays about things he believes to be true. There’s no way he could be thinking, he's always building. But he says that he’s thinking. Oh, I see! He’s just not pretty enough to be a politician!
Damn’t! I’m doing it again! I pray to God to save me from my error, but he says I’m doing all Man can do. How can that be? All I manage to do is think or make art?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment