Expectant

Been in front of the computer for far too long recently, just waiting and hoping.

The times I read philosophy and poetry on here, or even promote my work – I feel like I’m going through the motions.

Once again the question is salvation. Is our happiness external to us? Nietzsche unloads on Wagner for tying love to a redemption narrative, but the Bible in theism and Emily Dickinson in atheism are agreed: love has something to do with what is beyond us. It wouldn’t make any sense to love if the possibility of love weren’t there (people who say “you must be loved first in order to love” are the worst sort of idiot). We’d be deluded, we would destroy our own ability to give appropriately, we would misunderstand and therefore destroy love.

And, more to the point, even Nietzsche’s ubermensch requires a Zarathustra.

My eyes hurt. Time sometimes wears on one too much, as do bright blue screens. I’m not unhappy – I’m more frustrated that I might be running out of things to give.

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