Today the world belongs only to the stupid, the insensitive and the agitated. Today the right to live and triumph is awarded on virtually the same basis as admission into an insane asylum: an inability to think, amorality, and nervous excitability.
But if we remember that to say is to renew, we will have no trouble defining a spiral: it's a circle that rises without ever closing.
But I also see that in order to flee from all this I must either master it or repudiate it. I do not master it because I cannot rise above reality and I do not repudiate it because, whatever I may dream, I always remain exactly where I am.
I'm beginning to know myself.
I don't exist. I'm the space between what
I'd like to be and what others
made of me. Just let me be at ease and
all by myself in my room.
I hide behind the door, so that Reality won't see me when it enters.
To reduce sensation to a science, to make psychological analysis into a microscopically precise method - that's the goal that occupies, like a steady thirst, the hub of my life's will.