Life Seemed Even More Of A Guessing

Is Despair Wrong? Isn’t It The Natural Condition Of Life After A Certain Age? … After A Number Of Events, What Is There Left But Repetition And Diminishment? Who Wants To Go On Living? The Eccentric, The Religious, The Artistic (sometimes); Those With A False Sense Of Their Own Worth. Soft Cheeses Collapse; Firm Cheeses Endurate. Both Go Mouldy.

Perhaps The World Progresses Not By Maturing, But By Being In A Permanent State Of Adolescence, Of Thrilled Discovery.

In An Oppressive Society The Truth-telling Nature Of Literature Is Of A Different Order, And Sometimes Valued More Highly Than Other Elements In A Work Of Art.

But Then You Begin To Understand That The Reward Of Merit Is Not Life’s Business.

Life … Is A Bit Like Reading. … If All Your Responses To A Book Have Already Been Duplicated And Expanded Upon By A Professional Critic, Then What Point Is There To Your Reading? Only That It’s Yours. Similarly, Why Live Your Life? Because It’s Yours. But What If Such An Answer Becomes Less And Less Convincing?