l'oscurité me donne un instant du repos / by IKB

The life of every man is a fantastic story replete of equally fantastic characters. But like a story concocted by the pen of an author, here too in this story that bereft of edits retains a wonderful rawness, characters come and go; each one adds to the development of the hero, of this übermensch who ideally strives to overcome himself, but unfortunately accomplishes the opposite under the auspice of the ruinous effects of society – a self-sabotage. Yes, there are some characters that append themselves eternally, etched until that mysterious end of ends, but the coming and going is much more common and all-too familiar to man. Such is his fortune.

Thus, it must be remarked that those that are one day the most dear and familiar, upon the setting of the sun and his renewal, become strangers, returning to the darkness from which they initially sprung forth and into our life; he who was once close becomes the one furthest from reach.

I feel as if the darkness has betrayed itself, it has shown charity and bestowed upon me a brief instant of repose. Thus I rip through her womb and re-enter this world of light. Here I am, the manifestation of my thoughts and desires. Nothing of import has occurred during this interlude of some eighteen days.

Now more than ever it is clear that I am not a normal human being and that to desire what nature bestows upon those that are purportedly normal is absurd! How dare I desire normality when I chose to go to a small university that offers anything but what is normal? How dare I desire diversity both racial and intellectual when I chose to attend a university that attracts none of this? Henceforward, I staple my mouth shut!


Caption: Shh! and simply listen, see how wonderful it is to finally understand.

But yes, I am allowed to desire and expect anything but cargo cult intellectualism! Also, I must learn to not exasperate that our society with its institutionalized systems of educatition and culturalization only accomplishes the stagnation of self-development and creativity, for in the midst of all the mediocrity and idiocy, genius lurks. But oh how difficult it is to find!

Now with celerity I return to the battle I am to wage against myself, against this tragedy resulting from the Apollinian and Dionysian elements in the marrow of my being. Until next time, perhaps by then I’ll be in a whimsical place.