The weather today looks like the first stage of bread being outmuscled by mould.
Have you ever had that feeling where the inside of your head boils over like a pan full of rice, and the only thing lacking is that you're not frothing at the mouth?
Apparently the homo-sapien is the most intelligent species on the planet.
I have spent countless hours of my time probing this earthly decree with the philosophies of Sartre, Nietzsche, Heidegger, Kant, Descartes, Wittgenstein and Hume alike. With the literature of Burroughs, Ginsberg, Breton, Tzara, Apollinaire, Bukowski and Plath; and the artistry of Van Gogh, Renoir, Monet, Matisse, and Cezanne to name but a few.
Yet in all of this, the one thing I have surmised is that thinking is futile.
Wittgenstein said that " the aspects of things that are most important to us are hidden because of their simplicity and similarity. The real foundations do not strike a man at all."
To understand something you must first know what it isn't.
How backwards is the human mind? An almighty fucking paradox!
How we long for this blissful inertia.
You can't be angry at the rain for being wet.
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