So I just read what I wrote after posting it and realised that perhaps I came across as a bit too...fucked up. I considered deleting it but then realised that, for whatever reason, I needed to write it. So fuck it, it's out there. But I also feel I must respond to it. As I feel perhaps a recognition of my own desire to wallow in a construction that is my own making. That is, my existence. In moments like these I find myself turning to the well known misanthrope Arthur Schopenhauer. This quote perhaps says a bit about my situation:
"Each person has a character of his own; hence the same motive has not the same influence on everyone, and a thousand small details which occupy the ample scope of one man's ken, while they are unknown to other people, modify its effect. For this reason a deed cannot be predicted on the basis of the motive alone, for the other factor is wanting: the close knowledge of the individual character, and of the discernment which goes with it."
The World as Will and Idea, p. 51.
I can understand a motive to do something but I can never understand what would drive someone to act on that motive. It actually isn't as dark a statement as one would presume to find with Schopenhauer. I'm not sure if I find it helpful but perhaps...
names...
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
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