Post Some Aphorisms
"On Being Born"
Born. What is there to do after the fact? A life, an existence, but what for? We are conscious in the pale mirror of our own eyes. But nothing is seen except the strangeness of our self-realisation. Nothing is born as soon as we enter the world, screaming. As the curtains of death draw, to reveal a stage; at its centre dances a clown named Life. We clap. We cheer. What a cosmic joke!
"On Night"
What is the point of sleep when life itself is a nightmare? When night descends, beasts and demons rise out of the tenebrae. These creatures are hungry for flesh and thirsty for blood. But what dreams can monsters infest if all they know is the darkness?
"On Resentment"
Why do I resent the world after the tears of society's lamentations have dried away? If there is a god, he must see that I am angry over his Creation... The anhedonia of crazed hatred infests the mind and makes me wonder why I deign to mock the heavens! My bile, my black blood, all surge in the moment of realization that my own father mocks my very existence. He has committed every crime, the worst of which is being a father.
Born. What is there to do after the fact? A life, an existence, but what for? We are conscious in the pale mirror of our own eyes. But nothing is seen except the strangeness of our self-realisation. Nothing is born as soon as we enter the world, screaming. As the curtains of death draw, to reveal a stage; at its centre dances a clown named Life. We clap. We cheer. What a cosmic joke!
"On Night"
What is the point of sleep when life itself is a nightmare? When night descends, beasts and demons rise out of the tenebrae. These creatures are hungry for flesh and thirsty for blood. But what dreams can monsters infest if all they know is the darkness?
"On Resentment"
Why do I resent the world after the tears of society's lamentations have dried away? If there is a god, he must see that I am angry over his Creation... The anhedonia of crazed hatred infests the mind and makes me wonder why I deign to mock the heavens! My bile, my black blood, all surge in the moment of realization that my own father mocks my very existence. He has committed every crime, the worst of which is being a father.
