Monday, May 07, 2012

Fragments

Writing is not and can't be a substitute for living.

All my frustrations go back to the original frustration: Inability to communicate with people.

I've just realized how dishonest my experience of love has been. It has demanded an insane level of communication, which is precisely, the one thing people could never give me.

Tallking to oneself is the worst humilliation. That's how one begins to write, trying to save his honor from the spiritual mediocrity of friendship.

One should best love people in silence. Language, though a blessing for me, is for most, their disgrace.

It's important to remember people don't mean what they say, even when they're telling the truth. It's not that they don't believe it, but that they don't understand the promise that words makes explicit.

I'm so terribly impatient about communication with people. I could lose my temper over an unanswered message. I'm not just impatient but merciless. The impatience can only degenerate into two things: Either the destruction of all friendships or the acute awareness that one lives in such isolation. Patience doesn't make the situation better, it only adds a futile element of denial and asceticism.

The most terrible thing there is, is writing for other people. People will never read it. If they're in love with you, they're too busy with loving your character, if they're not in love with you, they're too busy criticizing your character.

I'm a lot more idiotic in silence than I am with words. I can't handle people's silence, especially when I know it's only of the careless kind.

Friendship and love should be one and the same. It just turns out that love is the dumbest creature. That's why one prefers and ultimately stays with friends, even if they're mediocre spirits, like most people are.

There's no such a thing as intellectual love affairs. Love can't be intellectual. If there's not a minimum of sexuality, hatred and fear involved, it can be hardly called love. Intellectuals are asexual, morally neutral and cowardly, that is, they can never admit to fear.

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