There can be no easy way
An easy way is to cheapen the affair, might as well do something else it says beneath the shining promising surface. This is how I feel about Goodreads as a tool to making my reading project come to realization, this is utter foolishness, it's like a fine food appreciator doing a in depth multi volume study of fast food chains.
So i've deleted the GR account, they make it so easy to leave and come back, my thoughts on those books are and were not up to snuff, they're just mindless appreciation, I end up saying less than what I could, and what makes me think I have to say anything? Just enjoy eh? Why get a hernia about expressing appreciation the right way, oh it's just wasting time and energy, like cutting out coupons that make you pay more than what you would normally have, just a fad, the blinking lights of a building that's not a slimy cesspool of vice, but a haloed birthplace of what's one unique. To make it easy to describe such things is deeply distasteful to the whole matter in hand.
I shall learn to be silent, until there's nothing I'd rather do but explain and describe, which means being suddenly gifted with unlocking the deeper leanings, that need to be carefully and miraculously exhumed into the filthy air of reality, and like those drawings in Fellini's Roma when once exposed to air, they dissolve, the past is erased when you doggedly try to make things easier.
It's nicer for me to play a fool and actively participate towards a lower self, as a self correction to hubris of any sort, that sort of thing can only be for a special kind of humor which is mingled in with apocalyptic sensations of a quality that if it were gold, it would be so low quality that it couldn't even a ---
I want to forge my own way, without helpful aids that just ruin the whole plan, the plan must begin, continue and end with me and my interaction with my sources that are like a pantheon of gods and goddesses from the cheddar cheese plant where something else is done.
So i've deleted the GR account, they make it so easy to leave and come back, my thoughts on those books are and were not up to snuff, they're just mindless appreciation, I end up saying less than what I could, and what makes me think I have to say anything? Just enjoy eh? Why get a hernia about expressing appreciation the right way, oh it's just wasting time and energy, like cutting out coupons that make you pay more than what you would normally have, just a fad, the blinking lights of a building that's not a slimy cesspool of vice, but a haloed birthplace of what's one unique. To make it easy to describe such things is deeply distasteful to the whole matter in hand.
I shall learn to be silent, until there's nothing I'd rather do but explain and describe, which means being suddenly gifted with unlocking the deeper leanings, that need to be carefully and miraculously exhumed into the filthy air of reality, and like those drawings in Fellini's Roma when once exposed to air, they dissolve, the past is erased when you doggedly try to make things easier.
It's nicer for me to play a fool and actively participate towards a lower self, as a self correction to hubris of any sort, that sort of thing can only be for a special kind of humor which is mingled in with apocalyptic sensations of a quality that if it were gold, it would be so low quality that it couldn't even a ---
I want to forge my own way, without helpful aids that just ruin the whole plan, the plan must begin, continue and end with me and my interaction with my sources that are like a pantheon of gods and goddesses from the cheddar cheese plant where something else is done.
46-50, M
