The worst part is wondering how you'll find the strength tomorrow to go on doing what you did today and have been doing for much too long, where you'll find the strength for all that stupid running around, those projects that come to nothing, those attempts to escape from crushing necessity, which always founder and serve only to convince you one more time that destiny is implacable, that every night will find you down and out, crushed by the dread of more and more sordid and insecure tomorrows.
And maybe it's treacherous old age coming on, threatening the worst. Not much music left inside us for life to dance to. Our youth has gone to the ends of the earth to die in the silence of the truth. And where, I ask you, can a man escape to, when he hasn't enough madness left inside him? The truth is an endless death agony. The truth is death. You have to choose: death or lies. I've never been able to kill myself.
People often confuse death with dying. Being dead means nothing. Death takes place at the exact point when life ends, so you can never experience death as an event, only dying. Often the likelihood of death increases as the degree of pain increases, thus a good reason to keep on keeping on. For all you know whatever ends up killing you might really fucking hurt along the way. As long as you can sedate yourself appropriately, both physically and mentally, dying might actually be fun.
1 comment:
People often confuse death with dying. Being dead means nothing. Death takes place at the exact point when life ends, so you can never experience death as an event, only dying. Often the likelihood of death increases as the degree of pain increases, thus a good reason to keep on keeping on. For all you know whatever ends up killing you might really fucking hurt along the way. As long as you can sedate yourself appropriately, both physically and mentally, dying might actually be fun.
Just a thought.
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