Die geheimen Tageb├╝cher von einer verderbten Existenz

Behind these gates you will hear my thoughts screaming like nerves under the sun and feel my emotion laughing to the empty ether.
Welcome Dear Wanderer, make yourself at home.
The road is long and tortuous and I hope you enjoy yourself.

Fraternally Yours,
Poison Creeper

Monday, 6 September 2010

Hedonism as nihilism

[disclaimer - this is not me writing, is just something I had found on the net.]

Hedonism as nihilism

Hedonism, as an attempt to escape the inevitable by burying oneself alive.

But who, nowadays, is not a hedonist up to some point or another, who does not attempt to

escape the eternal questions of existence, the eternal hunger and fearful lust for all that is alive or

dead, by buying more in order to consume more in this endless self-annihilating quest, by that

dreadful longing for fun and more fun as the only remaining road by which reality may be

evaded, the final goal to be aspired for, the last resort to cut off the constant flow of despair, by

subjecting oneself to disciplines alien to oneself, imposed from the outside as to evade

questioning ourselves about this very fear of freedom lurking in our very hearts.

And so the needles’, like nails pick deeper and deeper in the skin, the cigarettes’ smoke get

thicker and thicker accumulating in the chests, the televisions’ screens become more and more

vivid as they blind the eye to the light playing out in the green fields, the music rises louder and

louder as to resemble the rhythmic drums of marching armies, through obedience promising

belonging. And so the mind craves more and more blindness and intoxication, so that his days he

could end, in a numbing descent.

In reality, if one, by an incredible amount of patience, will, and inability to conform, was to

unveil this hedonistic-trend to look under the mask, naught would stand out but a trembling body

and a terrorized face. It is this face, in his yearning for forgetfulness, that veils itself in a

hedonism which, at its core, is slavery supreme.

When the ancients thought of the snake biting its own tail, forming a circle, as the sublime

imprint of existence and the eternal symbol of a universe regenerating itself, not in their darkest

hopes had they ever imagined that knowledge, being able to appreciate the beautiful and create

the aesthetic, could ever be bought at the price of a degeneration that leaves the human race and

with it the earth on the verge of self-annihilation. Not in their bleakest visions, could they have

foreseen myth degenerating into orthodox religion.

Much has changed, much is bound to change.

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