D. (dalaruan) wrote,

to sit in a chair for a single moment is to risk one’s life

You probably enjoy life. But you’ve got some bad habits. You’re too fond of what you’ve been taught to be fond of. Cemeteries, melancholy, the tragic lover, Venetian gondolas. You shout at the moon. If you weren’t so cowardly, sinking under the weight of all those lofty thoughts and nonexistent abstractions you’ve been forced into, all that nonsense dressed up as dogma, you’d stand up straight and play the massacre game, just like we do. But you’re too scared of no longer believing. You don’t understand that one can be attached to nothing and be happy.

Georges Ribemont-Dessaignes, The Pleasures of Dada

Tags: solitude

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