Uniqueness and whatsits

  1. “On idiosyncratic choices” – We ought not to think of being absolutely unique. Choices recur. The moment a highly peculiar choice is made, one can find that some highly peculiar others have already made the same. Nobody has to surround oneself of persons with the same mission anymore: some have already done it quite earlier than we do.


2. “Baffling journeys” – It pains to travel alone. It would not take the fun out, but beautiful things are ought to be shared; such is the prolix contagion of something beautiful. It demands a responsibility of being seen in common, for there is beauty in common things. Journeys too, no matter how tedious and complex, are nothing new. One must be careful lest we ignore the beauty of tedious and common things – one must be careful in choosing the person to see together such things.

3. “Empty farewells” – Relearning things is not the same as reorganizing a precious casket. Some goodbyes mean nothing really, because even if all memories are blurred, the memory of the heart never forgets. Sensation may recalibrate what we prioritize, what we left behind, and put a new shade of value in them in forgetting and moving on, but sensation also is not aware of itself when it does this. The truth? Farewells have an unconscious longing to be held back. Perhaps there is a dramatic nihilism in goodbyes after all.


4. “The woman with a million faces” – Great things do not surprise great persons, at least with that kind of ambitious ego. Greatness knows its kind and gratefully meets them with pleasure. But a commoner sees grandeur in a great event as if he has found the most beautiful spectacle he has ever seen all his life – the same repetitive feeling he cannot contain for himself. He easily becomes a babe in the woods, forever moonstruck, speaking in hyperbole whenever he sees such great things: the best, the best, the best!

By and large, many a great men had undergone thousands of plastic surgeries, propagating themselves and struggling to be better: but great women had millions. Only a woman with a million faces can feign a faux naif under her spell and forget about him like another shedding of her face. Not in snake’s skin but in life’s inevitable cruelty of dropping foolish creations into damnation. Such a man will have lived not a hell of a life as he imagined: with a woman like that, every brand of her face becomes a spectacle, a spectacle fed only by a foolish man’s exaggerated fanatic drivels.


5. “Inheritance” – I don’t suppose the meek ever gets left behind. They only need to unchain their fear of death – that means their fear of life!



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