In a strange room you must empty yourself for sleep. And before you are emptied for sleep, what are you. And when you are emptied for sleep, you are not. And when you are filled with sleep you never were. I don’t know what I am. I don’t know if I am or not. And then I must be, or I could not empty myself for sleep in a strange room. And so if I am not emptied yet, I am is.
- William Faulkner, As I Lay Dying
- William Faulkner, As I Lay Dying
Forwarded from alcoholic.exe
Depressed – he had reasons for it – he had been drinking steadily the night before. He had drifted from bar to bar, then seen no need to stop once he returned to his room. He vaguely remembered the sensation of booze sliding down his throat, the sought-after numbness it radiated. But how had that moment led to this one? Straining once more, he got hold of another image. The last thing he had done was to make his way into the bathroom and settle onto the toilet seat, bottle in hand. Time for one more swig before bed.
The average person is not especially curious about the world. He is alive, and being somehow obliged to deal with this condition, feels the less effort it requires, the better. Whereas learning about the world is labor, and a great all-consuming one at that. Most people develop quite antithetical talents, in fact - to look without seeing, to listen without hearing, mainly to preserve onself within oneself.
- Ryszard Kapuściński, Travels with Herodotus
- Ryszard Kapuściński, Travels with Herodotus
“If one has gone without music for a long time it afterwards enters the blood all too quickly like a heavy southern vine, and leaves behind a soul narcotically dulled, half-awake and longing for sleep.”
—Human, All Too Human, “The Wanderer and His Shadow,” §154 (excerpt).
—Human, All Too Human, “The Wanderer and His Shadow,” §154 (excerpt).
Such people, while useful, even agreeable, to others, are, if truth be told, frequently unhappy–lonely in fact. Yes, they seek out others, and it may even seem to them that in a certain country or city they have managed to find true kinship and fellowship, having come to know and learn about a people; but they wake up one day and suddenly feel that nothing actually binds them to these people, that they can leave here at once. They realize that another country, some other people, have now beguiled them, and that yesterday’s most riveting event now pales and loses all meaning and significance. For all intents and purposes, they do not grow attached to anything, do not put down deep roots. Their empathy is sincere, but superficial. If asked which of the countries they have visited they like best, they are embarrassed–they do not know how to answer. Which one? In a certain sense–all of them. There is something compelling about each. To which country would they like to return once more? Again, embarrassment–they had never asked themselves such a question. The one certainty is that they would like to be back on the road, going somewhere. To be on their way again–that is the dream.
- Ryszard Kapuściński, Travels with Herodotus
- Ryszard Kapuściński, Travels with Herodotus