Staying in sync with the present time is not that big a deal. Keeping your eyes open, your ears keen, and your reflexes intact isn’t particularly difficult. Following your herd is not something hard (or something to be proud of). Most people are on Facebook and Twitter. I’m not. It’s not that I’m not “most people” (which I’m not), it’s that I’m not in sync with my times.
Sometimes, to be ahead of your times, you need to live in the past.
In a seaside town, on a sunny week, at work. Always at work, then back “home” at more work, under never-ending stress, playing Atlas all the time. Not today. Against all ods, today will be a day for sea toe-dipping, plenty of sun burns and a few seaside glasses.
Sometimes you have to stop and smell the seagulls.
I’ll happily trade you ten wise men for a good man. The world doesn’t lack brains. Mental brilliance is all over the place, in unprecedented supply. The world lacks plain old goodness. Good old fashioned good nature.
Attempting to be what you can’t possibly be is the root of all your troubles. Trying to appear to be what you can’t possibly be is worse. There is usefulness in everything, there is beauty to be found in the most trivial of things. There are always people that seek and find these.
The art of letting go is the hardest thing to muster. Letting go of that money you no longer have, of your high-school sweetheart or former partner, of your dead loved ones, of your misconceptions from last year. You cannot be wrong again in a forward-moving way unless you let go. You can only be wrong in your normal, static, unproductive, unaesthetic fashion.
The art of letting go is the easiest thing to muster. Just let go.
New, cool things keep showing up all the time, or old things are unearthed and headed for novelty and coolness, as they’re exposed to fresh light.
Their vast majority shall be destroyed or discredited by a vast majority of superficial bastards. Their potentiality becomes the potentiality of decay. Always and forever, because there will always be bastards, and they’ll always hold majority.
This is why things can only be kept alive within oneself.
Do not be brilliant. Brilliance expresses itself, sometimes against all odds, and perpetually eludes those who seek it. Don’t even try, you’ll put yourself in the position of being both ineffectual, and pathetic. Stick to your passion, and brilliance will follow, if ever, or not at all, unrelated to your struggle.
The best way to win is to not compete. Mind, this is not the same as not to participate.
I need something to believe in. Something mythical. Something magical. The sort of thing to put at the foundation of the good I want to do. Something to make what I do matter, because no matter of how well I do things, they remain cold and meaningless, as if there is no purpose in perfection.
We’re all animals, in more ways than one. as a result of rather basic observations, I can no longer deny it and pretend I’m fair. In truth, most of us are no better than your average stray dog in a gutter. The glitter on our civilization is nothing more than the sign of our most elevated perversion — that of concealing our bestiality.
I used to love football, I still thoroughly enjoy the black&white footage of Garincha and Pele performing in Brazil’s golden team. I stopped loving it and watching it a long while ago. Today’s soccer is no longer a joyful game, but a multi-billion commercial machine, almost lacking any entertaining features, a meaningless and ugly venture on the green field as everyone knows everything being done is done purely for the money. The aura of (local) glory that’s being manufactured and thoroughly maintained around the teams is sickeningly phony. All the “entertainment” has moved into the pages of tabloids, that thrive on the football world’s petty scandals.