Fragments

You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken.

Before you can grow up, you must fall in love 3 times. Once, you must fall in love with your best friend, ruining your friendship forever. This will teach you who your true friends are, and the fine line between friendship and more. Once you must fall in love with someone you believe is perfect. You will learn that no one is perfect, and that you should never be treated as anything less than you deserve. And once, you must fall in love with someone that is exactly like you. This will teach you about who you are, and who you want to be. And when you’re through will all that, you learn that the people who care about you the most are the ones that you hurt, and the ones that hurt you are the ones that needed you the most. But most of all, you learn that love is only a concept and is not something that can be defined, it is different to each and every person on this earth, knowing that everyone only wants to be loved.

Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? Up on a pedestal or down on your knees, it’s all a male fantasy: that you’re strong enough to take what they dish out, or else too weak to do anything about it. Even pretending you aren’t catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you’re unseen, pretending you have a life of your own, that you can wash your feet and comb your hair unconscious of the ever-present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur.

Live a good life. If there are gods and they are just, then they will not care how devout you have been, but will welcome you based on the virtues you have lived by. If there are gods, but unjust, then you should not want to worship them. If there are no gods, then you will be gone, but will have lived a noble life that will live on in the memories of your loved ones

We’re in deep shit, and we know it. But secretly, we don’t really believe that it can all fall apart.

There’s a light at the end of the tunnel… but it’s another train coming at you.