After Reading Siddhartha

This is me wanting to keep sane.

Me and my (prose-like) writing, which is always always unconsciously done. Sometimes it gets the worse of me and my objectivity which almost undeniably deconstructs itself into something abstract, like alloy convoluted to artistic nonesense, art being dismissed as nonsensical to one who does not understand or is unwilling to.

Yes, like me and my quest for knowledge--driving me to the cul de sac or some self-depricating proclamation of mine (going lalala in my cuckoo head), which by all means I shall label 'quarter-life crisis' (assuming I die at 80). And my brain soaking wet, aching from all saturation (which is all too masochistic anyway). Over used. Full to the brim and yet pitterpatter it goes, screaming 'what say uncle'?

Like this very moment. Though I do believe that sanity has something to do with a person's anatomical limitation. Maybe, insanity is an uncommon spiritual experience. The way ideas are one-sidedly expressed by words. Because words are amalgamations of letters and letters are nothing sort of literary, or sensual, or anything in that sense. (or something similar to what Hermann Hesse said) It is the idea that is the literary. And still it is a one-sided type thing.

Ooh!

Ha? So shall we say that music is less limiting? Than words... I think so... I shall research on that. (This is maybe why I got so interested in learning all too well something I can thoroughly manipulate, something that can be disciples to my ideas) (which are all too sordid and villanous, and parenthetical, and doesn't really amount to much)

So, to do something metaphysical... That is using more than 10% of your brain... If it be permitted to 18 year olds in the 21st century of consumer capitalism.

No this is something really... A sober effect of cleaning my room and wanting to do Zen Buddhism to fill up some adolescent emptiness (if that still applies). To regain what was lost, like how i seemed to sound wiser when I was in highschool still (with these highschool essays as evidence), much to my chagrin (including this) or something like it. Huhuhuh.

Wisdom sounds stupid in words really... now I get that Mr. Hesse...