It Is Amazing How the Need for Money Makes Existence Worse

It is amazing how the need for money makes existence worse. Forced, most take it for natural, but the truth is they are slaves without knowing it. Naturally, some do not share the same fate. And what weight they do not carry on their backs! Knowing one’s need for money leads to endless psychological torture. “For how long? When will I free myself?” And worse when neediness takes over the bulk of routine, which is the most common situation. Many do not understand, anesthetized. But living up to a contract, having obligations to honor, doing religiously what one would never do if he did not has to… is that, by any chance, life?

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Laughing at What Causes Anger…

I am delighted to note my disagreements with the language police, which, like the customs police, claim to be the lady of reason. I find it amusing and I am proud of my rebellion. I feel close to the crucified artists who have always aroused my admiration…

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There Is a Wall Between Independent Thought and Popular Thought

There is a wall between independent thought and popular thought that almost always makes repugnance between them. The interest of the masses is, by definition, contrary to individual interest. This means that to endorse popular discourse is to be contrary to oneself, is to see one’s own singularity diluted, is to be, in short, a nobody. And, of course, the nobody envies the dissident, the holder of the courage he lacks, so “the nail that stands out is hammered.” The coward rejoices at the approval he gains from his cowardice, feels accepted and safe. On the other hand, he lacks a headstone so he will not be forgotten… That’s all right. His friends will never let him miss the headstone.

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A Thousand Times Sorry

I am sorry, thousand times sorry, but I find it hard to accept… Almost all of Shakespeare’s 154 sonnets on the same theme, almost all of Camões’ lyrical poetry chanting the same lament… How is that possible? I say and think myself a barbarian, amputee of my human dimension. But I cannot swallow it. Patience… I cannot and there is nothing to do. Here is the truth: there is a kind of suffering that’s never taken a single breath away from me, it does not arouse my compassion and sometimes it makes me laugh. O indolence! O cruelty!… I will end very, very badly with you…

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