The inferno of the living is not something that will be; if there is one, it is what is already here, the inferno where we live every day, that we form by being together. There are two ways to escape suffering it. The first is easy for many: accept the inferno and become such a part of it that you can no longer see it. The second is risky and demands constant vigilance and apprehension: seek and learn to recognize who and what, in the midst of inferno, are not inferno, then make them endure, give them space. ~Italo Calvino
Commonplace book of a teacher, poet, and counselor.
Those spaces between,
finite but possessing
the clearest sense of infinitude,
The spaces between seconds,
in negative rhythm,
the substance of time.
Those moments btween
between the connection
and the shuttering of eyes."
We don’t know how to say goodbye,
We wander on, shoulder to shoulder
Already the sun is going down
You’re moody, and I am your shadow.
Let’s step inside a church, hear prayers, masses for the dead
Why are we so different from the rest?
Outside in the graveyard we sit on a frozen branch.
That stick in your hand is tracing
Mansions in the snow in which we will always be together.
There are two things that are vital to being happy: A gift of delusion and money. Both will protect you and keep you going.
I don’t know why delusion is considered a defect, a disorder. Tennessee said we need a myth to get up in the morning, and I think we need a delusion, which may be the same thing. We delude ourselves into thinking our parents love us and will take care of us. We delude ourselves into thinking that things will turn out okay, if we only love and work hard and do the right things. We delude ourselves into thinking that we are loved and appreciated. We delude ourselves into thinking that even if things are terrible for us right here, right now, there is a Heaven, a nirvana, a reward waiting for us: A balm to soothe all abrasions.
This is all delusion.
We delude ourselves into thinking that our work matters. We pray that it does.
Prayer is a delusion, because there is no one with the time and the interest to hear our woes and our progress.
We are in it alone.
Life without a delusion and some money isn’t worth a damn.
So invent your God, your ideal audience, your hoped-for responses to your every performance or poem or invention. Imagine the glory from your invented friends.
Surround yourself with the very few people you can love and to whom you can give anything of value. Delude yourself into thinking that you can protect them and that they love you.
Then retreat into the silence and the calm that money can buy. The greatest investments of your money should be silence and distance.
Delusion is a gift if utilized correctly.