This Is the World That I Know – j.Kantor

/ fargokantrowitz
  • This is the world that I know of. This is the world that I know. This is the only world that I know of. This is the only world that I know. How come, this thing, this thing, that we know. This thing that we know always need be changed? For this is the world that I know of. Of no other do I know. How come. This. This world that we speak of should be better. How, for this is the world that we know of. This is the world that we know. There is no better thing than this. There is no better. There is no better thing than this. No better, for this is the world that we know of. This is the world that we know. This is the world that we know of. This is the world that we know.
  • You say to do when I do with a leaden face. What world is there to see when the eyes are like steel balls, heavy and falling, and weak. How come would you say do you promote growth when death is the every day occurrence. Are we to be better when we are aged than when we are young? Whence truth?
  • I see a million worlds in a single second. Which do I choose. Would you give me the simple acknowledgement that at least I see as much as you do even though I am less able to expound on it as well as you. If so I will give you that you are very clever, very shrewd, very business-like. I envy you.
  • So I give you the notes of myself. It is all that we can ever really do, really, but we don’t because it has always been done, because it is the only thing we can ever do. Notes. Notes to myself, on myself, to you, so that you will understand me. Me. As though there is a me to understand. The reality is that there is no me to understand. I don’t know the logistics yet, the philosophical maxim that holds this in truth. When I try to say it it just sounds humorous and I feel ashamed for thinking that I could think my way into some truth, any truth. I am not allowed to know truth. This is for people with money, with success. The real people.
  • There are a million ways to look at it, you know. None of them matter, because none of them mean anything. You will not give me victory anyway, most likely, most likely you will tell me that I suck. That’s okay. I used to expect some sort of praise in this world for my wisdom. Then I realized that the only reason I wanted wisdom was to receive the praise. Ultimately wisdom is very sexless. Nobody wants a person who is wise. They will listen to you, but they cannot love you except in a fatherly way. I attempted to have this sort of love as a young man. I failed miserably, spoke nothing wise, and failed in every imaginable way. Now I am getting old. Maybe there will be some wisdom in the folly of my life after I’m gone.
  • Think of wisps of air. That is all that you can hope for if you want to see who you are. We don’t have the ability to see ourselves as master works.
  • I am sad because now that I am getting old there is nobody who values me. I am no longer young and innocent. My gift to the world must lie elsewhere and I haven’t cultivated it. I should have laid my seed early so that I may reap the harvest with everybody else. In this way at least I would have been able to travel the same paths as my peers and wouldn’t be so lonely and hopeless.
  • I have always valued the written word over all other things on this planet. Then I discovered that nobody reads. (to be cont.d)

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