Perhaps the arc that bends towards justice is similar to those arcs in calculus where it gets infinitely closer to a point but can never get there, so we bend and the poets keep their eye on the 'x' , yet we have to learn to not suffer from frustration of where we are. To somehow be discontent enough to continue the move forward, yet not so discontent that we are suffering into infinity. And maybe that's our lesson, or the lessons of the poets that still suffer, not specifically you or I. Just thinking out loud.
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If we Trust, and are invested in Elsewhere, we do not suffer... Sweet dreams, friend 🙏🏼
PS - Here’s Beckett thinking outloud:
What is demanded of the artist is that, as an individual, he vanish from his work...
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Yes, you must be here, and also, millions of light-years away. All at the same time…
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Writing has led me to Silence
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[The mystics] I like… I like their… their illogicality… their burning illogicality – the flame… the flame… which consumes all our filthy logic.
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Ever Tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again.
Fail again. Fail better.
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You're on earth. There's no cure for that.