Byronic.

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Byronic: Characteristic of Lord Byron or his poetry – [of a man] alluringly dark, mysterious, and moody.

A prisoner.

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I identify strongly with this quote. People often say “it’ll get better” or “things happen for a reason” and my personal favourite “it can only go up from here”, which is just indicative of a lack of imagination. It’s all bullshit. Many goodhearted, lovely people die alone, suffer pain, get screwed and many shitty people prosper. I am definitely not an optimist, but I am a PRISONER of hope. Hope is just as narcotic as depression, the two can be very close and equally misguiding. Hope, expectations, disappointment and so on. Optimism is an affliction. It teaches us that if you are not happy there is something wrong with you, you “lack faith” or you need pills, for example. When in reality no one is promised happiness and few achieve it. Most who do stumble upon it by pure luck, sheer randomness or hedonism. I highly recommend the latter.

The machinery is always going.

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If you sleep. If the gears keep you awake, eventually they turn slower and creakier and heavier and more labourious. So the noise and the effort adds to the lists of things that go bump in the night and that keeps you from real rest. … but I would rather go mad from sleep deprivation than stop the works and walk around empty.

Heartless.

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There’s a difference between being heartless and using your heart less.

I knew it!

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Frida‘s story has been a personal anchor for me. Truthfully, it kinda borders on idol worship. I even carry a talisman of her to remind me of her strength, like some people draw from saints. In the film, before her heart fucks her for life, you meet her first boyfriend. He seems nice. After the accident that crippled her with pain he recommends she reads Schopenhauer to get her through being bed ridden. My heart lept when I heard it. She is So inspiring and I’ve admired his work for so long… I knew he was an important thinker from the first time I read The Vanity of Existence. I could feel it in my bones. And look, I was right!

For you but not for me.

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That’s a good saying ‘Hells bells and buckets of blood.’ I usually just say “Fuck it!” Stephen Fry, QI

I instantly fell in love this expression. After some research I found it only gets better. Apparently it originates from this very, very, cool poem:

The bells of hell go ting-a-ling-a-ling
For you but not for me:
And the little devils how they sing-a-ling-a-ling
For you but not for me.
O death, where is thy sting-a-ling-a-ling,
O Grave, thy victor-ee?
The bells of hell go ting-a-ling-a-ling,
For you but not for me.

You should care.

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I agree with the sentiment that there is no real originality left, that there is nothing new under the sun. But I do believe in authenticity. When you work on something that is your own, you’re being authentic, even if it’s been done before, you can still own it. If you rebrand what you can get from real creatives, try hopping onto the newest trend, or obsessively chase “going viral”, you are exactly what fatigues the creative impulse and industry. Luckily that kind of desperation is easy to spot. Creatives can be naive and idealistic, so beware of charming snake oil salesmen, or in today’s common tongue, “the promise of exposure”. With the vast opportunities the internet has to offer it’s likely that you could market yourself better anyway.

Limitations.

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This post is inspired by one of the ten greatest physicists of all time, Richard Feynman. If he was my math teacher, I’m sure I would feel a whole lot different about numbers and sums. As it is, I still get nightmares about my matric exam and it’s almost been a decade! I met his character in the film, The Challenger Disaster, an inspiring look at the investigation that followed the tragedy. I would recommend it to geniuses as well as mathematical idiots alike. Very entertaining!