the essence in us all is pain and loneliness
when I started to consider the justification of all things being merely performances and constructs, I began to think that this justification would be a great leap from the inward self that is constantly at odds with the outward; the paradoxes are inherent and they are contradictions that we push aside for the benefit of being stable beings. The act of being someone is a performance. The outward apparatuses are our props. But not the inward being that justifies the performance. In other words, the essential quality of men is the desire to perform.
and this performance is guided by the absence of a total fulfillment of our Desire. But this Desire also calls to attention the presence of pain or loneliness, which are the inadequate states of the self; our manifestations being always removed from the imaginations and desires of the mind once they are performed.
Perhaps, our first concern is to survive but such a thought dulls our existence. Do we live only to think about being alive, breathing, eating, drinking and sleeping? It is more than that. We are anxious or we despair more than often by the desire to be more than the average animated being. We are not merely animals.
Performances present the lack more than the gain. It is the lack that eats into our being and presents always a departure from the essential; Always a dishonesty of the essence and a honesty of the reaching out for the ideal and Desire.
I am lonely; always in my mould. I can change. But I am still in my mould. If at the bottom of our consciousness is pure nothingness, then the rude awakening is that I can inflict pain to my body. I am born into my own body. I live my own consciousness. I die my own death. There is nothing or no one who can "construct" me in the way I will be. Not even my clone, who has to live his own life. I live my own life in my own time and space.
when we perform, we perform our loneliness and our escape from pain. When we construct we reveal our personal answers that are privileged over other possibilities, which in a doubling act, conceals only that there is nothing beneath all these constructs. But this nothingness is not a pure void. It is only a separation from the essence of being: the loneliness that perpetuates in every unconsciousness. The dreams we have, the fluidity and the impossibility of manifestation those dreams in their entirety, shows us the colourful truth of the power of our wills.
but if we search deeper, beyond the pain and loneliness, we find a deep silence and darkness that is a horrible monster, lurking and weaving its lies to the mind, slowly manifesting itself to the outside world. This monster is the essence of the human being. Only some choose to fight it.
It is not my construct. I cannot perform this monster. It is the void itself.
I am telling you: this war against the monster gives you a trembling sensation.
when I started to consider the justification of all things being merely performances and constructs, I began to think that this justification would be a great leap from the inward self that is constantly at odds with the outward; the paradoxes are inherent and they are contradictions that we push aside for the benefit of being stable beings. The act of being someone is a performance. The outward apparatuses are our props. But not the inward being that justifies the performance. In other words, the essential quality of men is the desire to perform.
and this performance is guided by the absence of a total fulfillment of our Desire. But this Desire also calls to attention the presence of pain or loneliness, which are the inadequate states of the self; our manifestations being always removed from the imaginations and desires of the mind once they are performed.
Perhaps, our first concern is to survive but such a thought dulls our existence. Do we live only to think about being alive, breathing, eating, drinking and sleeping? It is more than that. We are anxious or we despair more than often by the desire to be more than the average animated being. We are not merely animals.
Performances present the lack more than the gain. It is the lack that eats into our being and presents always a departure from the essential; Always a dishonesty of the essence and a honesty of the reaching out for the ideal and Desire.
I am lonely; always in my mould. I can change. But I am still in my mould. If at the bottom of our consciousness is pure nothingness, then the rude awakening is that I can inflict pain to my body. I am born into my own body. I live my own consciousness. I die my own death. There is nothing or no one who can "construct" me in the way I will be. Not even my clone, who has to live his own life. I live my own life in my own time and space.
when we perform, we perform our loneliness and our escape from pain. When we construct we reveal our personal answers that are privileged over other possibilities, which in a doubling act, conceals only that there is nothing beneath all these constructs. But this nothingness is not a pure void. It is only a separation from the essence of being: the loneliness that perpetuates in every unconsciousness. The dreams we have, the fluidity and the impossibility of manifestation those dreams in their entirety, shows us the colourful truth of the power of our wills.
but if we search deeper, beyond the pain and loneliness, we find a deep silence and darkness that is a horrible monster, lurking and weaving its lies to the mind, slowly manifesting itself to the outside world. This monster is the essence of the human being. Only some choose to fight it.
It is not my construct. I cannot perform this monster. It is the void itself.
I am telling you: this war against the monster gives you a trembling sensation.
