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[05 Nov 2005|06:24pm] |
Lancaster, California
Pear juice dripping down my hands while standing around a grouping of joshua trees, my hair blown in to my eyes, and I can realize how long it is and that this alone makes me feel different. And I'm looking around and nothing is familiar and nothing is the way it was. The only thing that manages never to change is this section of empty desert and how I feel when I stand in it.
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[24 Nov 2003|12:16am] |
You're obliged to pretend respect for people and institutions you think absurd. You live attached in a cowardly fashion to moral and social conventions you despise, condemn, and know lack all foundation. It is that permanent contradiction between your ideas and desires and all the dead formalities and vain pretenses of your civilization which makes you sad, troubled and unbalanced. In that intolerable conflict you lose all joy of life and all feeling of personality, because at every moment they suppress and restrain and check the free play of your powers. That's the poisoned and mortal wound of the civilized world.
Octave Mirbeau
The Torture Garden
Chapter 8, "The Mission"
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horseys's journal
