0 (Nought).

Posted on October 10, 2007

0


We live in an age without history, an age without context. 

This is a mannerless age.

‘Infection’ runs abroad.  One behaviour destroys another.

If happiness is an unattainable image, a spectre of the mind, that is because of a painful stupidity and a simple reason.  It is because – to take my own case – I am not in myself but, as myself, I am purely social : a being without origin.  Because of this happiness is cast like a rainbow beyond every sense but sight, untouchable but yet real too.

The seeking of happiness through others engages us in instrumentalising them inadvertently.  This burdening of others with responsibility for creating one’s own happiness.  The argument is not that solitude is the solution to happiness, but a sense of purpose that depends on no-one but oneself.

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