"Nobody thinks, nobody cares. No beliefs, no convictions and no
enthusiasms." John Osborne, Look Back in Anger

If someone could just be afraid, get extremely angry, cry viciously over something... What is it that we fear so much? Why can't we just cross the street without looking at both sides? Is so much propper for oneself to be numbed? What do we wait for? Not that we believe that once dead we will be punished or rewarded... We already live in perfection.

Why?

We can't decide what is good or bad, we know they're ethereal. Perfection is this, an ordinary, regular, insipid equilibrium, a total equilibrium. We live in equal ammounts of everything, we are the ones who can't notice it. Is like a sphere made of infinite concepts that balance with each other in the centre, each dot is one of them. We are as helpless as we are hoping, we are sad as we are red, we are ugly as we are salty. All together, of course. Perfection... pff

I don't know wether I am a heartless hedonist or someone who just thought about karma and perfection for long insomnias. I know I have no midpoint, that's sure.

Enthusiasm, as I see it, works. Battles may not have happy endings, but they're just battles, stories, moments, decisions, it is just plain not to travel across them without getting from each moment the best you can get. A quotation from Oscar Wilde comes to mind, but I can't find it or remember it, it talked precisely about that, getting from each single moment the extreme. I found this one, it's still useful:
"Moderation is a fatal thing. Nothing succeeds like excess."




"When he was six he believed that the moon overhead followed him
By nine, he desiphered the illusion, trading magic for fact, no trade-backs"








I'd like to live in the wilderness