Author Topic: How the Will turn against Itself(To Senor Raul,Mr.Silenus and Mr.Ibra)  (Read 574 times)

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Holden

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  • Hentrichian Philosophical Pessimist
Mr.Silenus,

I  think  you have updated the  phraseology  and if  Schopenhauer  were  alive  now   he might have  adopted  some of that  too ,he  was after all a life long reader of scientific journals.
I think  the  crux of the matter  is  to  distinguish  between  Will (with capital   W)   and will  (  which  is represented by an individual).Will cannot  be annihilated.It is primal.However,  individual manifestations of the Will  can be.Its is the "will"which causes all suffering.

As  Sartre  says  hell is other  people.Sartre  writes:

Then those blood-smeared walls, these swarms of flies, this reek of
shambles and the stifling heat, these empty streets and yonder god with his gashed face, and all
those creeping, half-human creatures beating their breasts in darkened rooms, and those shrieks,
those hideous, blood-curdling shrieks—can it be that Zeus and his Olympians delight in these?
ZEUS: Young man, do not sit in judgment on the gods. They have their secrets—and their
sorrows.


 I am red as a flayed ox, these loathsome flies are swarming after me, and my heart is  buzzing like an angry hive.
(Flies say) We'll suck the pus and matter from your
hearts.
Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. We shall be the staring eyes of the houses, The growls of the kenneled
mastiff baring his fangs as you go by, A drone of wings pulsing in high air, Sounds of the forest,
Whistlings, whinings, creakings, hissings, howlings. We shall be the darkness, The clotted
darkness of your souls. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Heiah, heiah, heiahah! Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. We are
the flies, the suckers of pus, We shall have open house with you, We shall gather our food from
your mouths, And our light from the depths of your eyes. All your life we will be with you, Until
we turn you over to the worms.



You write that  you  are working in a hotel .Well, I worked  in one too a long,long  time  ago but the  painful  memories of   that period  are  still  with and  never  grant   me a moment's respite:(
The  flies ,as  promised,are still with me,they are always with me.

Ecce Femina   :(

« Last Edit: March 11, 2019, 08:28:30 pm by Holden »
La Tristesse Durera Toujours                                  (The Sadness Lasts Forever ...)
-van Gogh.