/lit/ - Literature

>>8501795
That dichotomy is always the refuge of the dispossessed and the superficial: "Oh, you haven't shot heroine down your urethra? You don't know what it means to live, dude!"

This idea that life is something that could possibly be outside oneself is not only poisonous, it is completely illogical, spoused by people who think they can cast definite judgement on something that is not over, that they can distance themselves from something that is inherent to their being, that can do anything but imply the absolute while being partial, who cry for freedom while not seeing how throughly conditioned they are. Just look at Nietzsche: talking of super-humans who are completely defined by their place in the human realm, abhorring pity and talking of the bodily when he himself is a wretch, talking of how creating new values is what defined great men of the past, screaming as loud as he can supposedly for no ears.

To think anything that happens *in* life could go *against* life is mistaken to the point it forgets death isn't life's antonym, but birth's; that death is what feeds life. What is more life-denying than not accepting other ways are possible? Who is there that being a single being can cast judgement on every being? What is more subservient than to call for the rise of great tyrants, that should be the stubborn model of all life? And how can one talk seriously about wasting life, knowing all victories are nothing but a man-made game?

I'm overreacting, yes. I have no intention of going forever, however; not only is that impossible, it would be tiring and needless. I will move on with my life after being done writing this, rather than rejoice that it will repeat forever. I only have and want what is mine. I have no pretensions of knowing or getting anything but. I trust the world is large enough already to entertain me for a life, if allowed to.