What We’ll Become

Eros & Psique. José de Almada-Negreiros, 1954.

 

 

No matter how clever, sober and magnanimous we think we are, we simply don’t know, do we? Not who we were, who we are, or what we’ll become.

What if abandonment isn’t an elusive purpose at all? What if it is our pervading essence, the one which we routinely disregard?

 

 

 

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It’s Not That

not-that

 

I mean, I always thought that the music of a thousand instruments, no matter how much out of tune, would make me assemble a sonata, inevitably.

It’s a little puzzling to discover that it never does and that the fault most likely lies in my own algorithm.

At some point you give up, you owe it to yourself to give up, you have to, right?

Right?

 

 

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