January 2012
14 posts
“For emotion for the sake of emotion is the aim of art, and emotion for the sake...”
– The Critic as Artist, Oscar Wilde
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I am a lump of molecules currently arranged in the most energetically favourable conformation
but when I die I will be most energetically favourable as dust and dirt. Huh.
“And it is this, I think, that makes Kafka’s wit inaccessible to children whom...”
– David Foster Wallace
Kafka asked his friend to burn all his writings, all unpublished, at his death. Talk about being tortured with the idea of self. Luckily for us the friend disobeyed. I wonder if Kafka would keep an emo Tumblr blog were he alive today
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I cling to the outsides of your words
and your words became flesh
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I want, because that’s how the emotional brain functions. I doubt, because my cognitive brain knows better. Nothing like the cold knife of definition to pain and operate on sanity
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If its any comfort to others who also love to write but have no confidence in their writing, great American wordsmiths like Steinbeck and Vonnegut wrote their first pieces with such clumsiness that I feel half decent about my own prose.
Steinbeck used to write short stories for ‘The Housewife’s Companion’ magazine.
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How very funny that these constrictions of the throat and the pinched air from the lungs make this sound “aie luv yoo” (say it ten times slow, ten times fast, ten times with meaning and ten times without) and this wave of sound Energy powers through ears and mind and to the heart And we all know what that can do, It can kill a man and make a man and everything in between.
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If only life was like the New Year and everything could start anew just because 11:59 became 12:00.
