recidivi5t

i'm reading steppenwolf out loud to my cat petunia in a sunbeam this morning. a friend gave it to me for xmush. it's strange to read a book like that; one that has such a modern articulation of spirituality and society, but is 80 yrs old. or maybe it isn't. i suppose the sieves that we sift our daily suffering into exist independently of the modern physical world, but it's mind blowing that hesse could describe a punk so well. sometimes i say to myself that it's all of the technology that splinters my acceptance of the modern american condition (as i peck away into my computer...what a hypocrite)...hermann hesse makes me feel that i'd live on the fringes of any society anywhere in time. blah blah la la la

it's the romance and infactuation with tragedy. the love affair with anything that's destined to come apart; dying flowers, echoes in a cathedral. the living example of star-crossed lovers; a man who will never understand his immortal potential inside. "i will be free", is the anthem of the prisoner.

what is beautiful about reasonable behavior? i'd rather die attempting the impossible than succeed on a proven, well traveled road to comfort. la la la la la la