i guess this has become my emancipation. not only have i spent weeks on end writing continuously, i've spent months thinking unhindered.
what's happened to me? i am always trapped between these four walls. in my room, there is a framed picture of a woman in a fur hat. she sits upright and holds a fur muff that covers her lower left arm: she is always looking towards whoever is gazing, and that's usually me. but i don't know where her face is. she symbolizes something more than everything else. this picture becomes an escape from everything else that i'm not able to live, whether by force or by choice.
you live in limbo away from everything, only it takes you a lengthy time to realize this. i oft hear people arguing that they live imaginatively while the "real world" continues to happen. i offer that you live completely while the imaginative world continues to not happen.
again i return to my real world... to my belief that love will be the only thing to free anyone. though "for even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you," you still grow and shed and grow again. for money is useless to me now: the earth provides enough for me to exist and even if i wanted to, i could never take more than what my hands could hold. and my possessions are nothing but things i keep in fear of being disadvantaged. but at what? none may agree, but my feelings and my thoughts are the instruments which sail my seafaring soul.
"he sallied out, changed direction four times not knowing what he should save first before his attention was suddenly caught by the picture on the wall - which was already denuded of everything else that had been on it - of the lady dressed in copious fur. he hurried up onto the picture and pressed himself against its glass, it held him firmly and felt good on his hot belly. this picture at least, now totally covered by Gregor, would certainly be taken away by no one."
- franz kafka, the metamorphosis
again i return to my real world... to my belief that love will be the only thing to free anyone. though "for even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you," you still grow and shed and grow again. for money is useless to me now: the earth provides enough for me to exist and even if i wanted to, i could never take more than what my hands could hold. and my possessions are nothing but things i keep in fear of being disadvantaged. but at what? none may agree, but my feelings and my thoughts are the instruments which sail my seafaring soul.
"he sallied out, changed direction four times not knowing what he should save first before his attention was suddenly caught by the picture on the wall - which was already denuded of everything else that had been on it - of the lady dressed in copious fur. he hurried up onto the picture and pressed himself against its glass, it held him firmly and felt good on his hot belly. this picture at least, now totally covered by Gregor, would certainly be taken away by no one."
- franz kafka, the metamorphosis
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