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…I’m attracted to broken things.
-Derren Versoza
Most nouns I find to be in a constant state of flux, myself included. Though the ways in which I act are constant (at least as of recent times), my thoughts and views alter with the addition of certain knowledge, regardless whether that knowledge be true or untrue, false or unfalse.
I often lose my sense of self, who I am, to abstractions and philosophies which mean nothing yet weigh upon me with devastating intensity, as if they are the only matters which mean anything. I tire of philosophy, and I grow to dislike any type of epistemology. Knowledge becomes vile without perspective, morphine of existence. It replaces daily beauty with learned paradigms.
I want to drive fast, like I just bought my first car and it was time to test it, time to attack the highway, with the windows down and the system up. I lived under the thumb of adrenaline; my little acts of anarchy, some not as little as others. Adrenaline, without it I feel remorse, like I’ve betrayed myself. At least in performing I was still true to my maxims…I don’t really know why I stopped, or, rather, why I thought I needed to.
I miss art, at least in it the human form is true, as opposed to studying law…societies imposition, beneath which I will take knee. I would much rather change the world through aesthetics than through dogmas. However, perhaps I will find value within my current path, something to satisfy my passions while at the same time adhering to societies requirements for eudaimonia…which, I guess, boils down to money…on that note, I’m off to my business law class.
The City was dark with something more than night.
Raymond Chandler
