Why does that obstinate little voice in our heads torment us so? he said, looking round the table. Could it be because it reminds us that we are alive, of our mortality, of our individual souls which, after all, we are too afraid to surrender but yet make us feel more miserable than any other thing? But isnt it also pain that often makes us most aware of self? It is a terrible thing to learn as a child that one is a being separate from all the world, that no one and no thing hurts along with ones burned tongues and skinned knees, that ones aches and pains are all ones own. Even more terrible, as we grow older, to learn that no person, no matter how beloved, can ever truly understand us. Our own selves make us most unhappy, and thats why were so anxious to lose them, dont you think? Read more...
I stick with Blake, I said, and I draw a line. Between whats proved and whats just jerking off premature reification. If I see my Aunt Emily get decapitated in a freak piano-tuning accident, and then a bodiless shape that looks just like Auntie Em comes walking through my bedroom wall at three in the morning with its head tucked underneath its arm, I dont just jump for the nearest conclusion which is that whatever is on the label has to be in the box. Read more...
Correct. The answer is, I dont have an answer. I can offer no comfort and little insight. I am not your God. Or if I am, Im no God you can seek out for deliverance or explanation. Im the kind of God who would eat you without compunction if I were hungry. Youre as naked and alone in this world as you were before finding me. And so now the question becomes: Can you abide by this knowledge? Or will it destroy you, empty you out, make you a husk among husks? Read more...