The adjuration to be "normal" seems shockingly repellent to me; I see neither hope nor comfort in sinking to that low level. I think it is ignorance that makes people think of abnormality only with horror and allows them to remain undismayed at the proximity of "normal" to average and mediocre. For surely anyone who achieves anything is, a priori, abnormal.
It__ not a crime to wish for other worlds. You__l get taxed for it but they can__ throw you in jail for creating your own private world_yet. Dramatics are fun, an indulgence. __ou can__ go backward,_ __ou can__ live in the past,_ they tell you. Why not? __ou__e got to put all that behind you and move on to other things,_ they say. Bullshit! These are all expressions of modern disposability. It__ a mediocritizing technique__rying to get rid of what I call __ast orthodoxies._ It__ our past that makes us unique, therefore it__ our past that economic interests want to rob from us, so they can sell us a new, improved future. Society now depends on a disposable world__ut with the old, in with the new, including relationships. But how we weep and wish we could hold onto those cherished moments forever, to those long-whispered dreams, those tortured nights__ow we want to grasp them and stop them from sifting through our fingers. I say, __on__ let it happen. Keep things the way you want them and let the rest of the world be duped.
The Secret Life of a Satanist: The Authorized Biography of Anton LaVey
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It__ not a crime to wish for other worlds. You__l get taxed for it but they can__ throw you in jail for creating your own private world_yet. Dramatics are fun, an indulgence. __ou can__ go backward,_ __ou can__ live in the past,_ they tell you. Why not? __ou__e got to put all that behind you and move on to other things,_ they say. Bullshit! These are all expressions of modern disposability. It__ a mediocritizing technique__rying to get rid of what I call __ast orthodoxies._ It__ our past that makes us unique, therefore it__ our past that economic interests want to rob from us, so they can sell us a new, improved future. Society now depends on a disposable world__ut with the old, in with the new, including relationships. But how we weep and wish we could hold onto those cherished moments forever, to those long-whispered dreams, those tortured nights__ow we want to grasp them and stop them from sifting through our fingers. I say, __on__ let it happen. Keep things the way you want them and let the rest of the world be duped.
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Was it possible to feel nostalgic about something that had never happened to him, possible for nostalgia to be taken in by the body as a free pathogen to infect the consciousness with stray sentiments? Perhaps, in his dreams, he had traveled back in time, or even drifted into another dimension of space-time and inhabited the body, experiences, and nostalgia of another. To even envisage so allowed the trauma of those lost moments, though not his own, to draw from him a certain envy for the entity in whose memories he had basked vicariously. . .Perhaps, nostalgia was a microorganism. . .the bacterium that infected. . . Yes. . .maybe he was sick.
I am who I am because the tears of my past have watered the magnificence of my present.
I guess everybody thinks about old times, even the happiest people.
[She] sees. She knows. She understands. About evil, or whatever you care to name it. It comes. It's relentless. It doesn't care if you forgot it. It searches, and it finds you, and it arrives on your doorstep one day, and it lights up a screen, it calls you by your real name, it smiles at you, it says hello, it eyes your son and promises to take him home.
Times of terror and the deepest misery may arrive, but if there is to be any happiness in this misery it can only be a spiritual happiness, related to the past in the rescue of the culture of early ages and to the future in a serene and indefatigable championship of the spirit in a time which would otherwise completely swallow up the material.