dedalus Posted December 15, 2013 Share Posted December 15, 2013 No freedom, no truth, but only reductions along the shrinking path and when people ask you what you did or didn’t do, you can smile and say whatever you like, with embellishments with casual lies, because people pay such little attention until those final enigmatic jerky moments when their eyes show shocked understanding in the face of facts lain as bare on the floor as glistening oysters. When we move from darkness into light there is nothing, almost, to worry about, apart from the prod of memory submerged for the moment but never gone, a trailing afterbirth quietly ticking, awaiting the moment of dramatic revelation, or, as so often occurs, the anterooms of despair and silent white corridors. There is a blessing in untimely death, which, while cutting off warmth, familiarity, fellowship, spares us the delayed agony, the uncoiling sting of memory. Let us drink, then, while we can, availing of subtle superior wines, the succulence of finely-cooked food, and delight in clever, well-told stories; let us be generous, open-hearted and gay in our physical and mental prime, unworried by the bothers of the day and the swirling circles of gossip and bad feeling: these are petty, impure, demeaning things unworthy of even one’s passing attention. And, above all, let us have children, or at least one single beloved child, one who will outlive us and cherish our name and then have his or her own children, thereby placing a diffident yet undeniable tab on the uncertain future. Quote Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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