happy anniversary mummy and daddy!
it's not the 9th here yet, but it is back home...
glad you haven't gotten sick of each other yet. =)
love you!
Friday 9 November 2007
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"the greatest hazard of all, losing the self, can occur very quietly in the world, as if it were nothing at all. no other loss can occur so quietly; any other loss - an arm, a leg, five dollars, a wife, etc. - is sure to be noticed.
thus possibility seems greater and greater to the self; more and more it becomes possible because nothing becomes actual. eventually everything seems possible, but this is exactly the point at which the abyss swallows up the self. it takes time for each little possibility to become an actuality. eventually, however, the time that should be used for actuality grows shorter and shorter; everything becomes more and more momentary. possibility becomes more and more intensive - but in the sense of possibility, not in the sense of actuality, for the intensive in the sense of actuality means to actualize some of what is possible. the instant something appears to be possible, a new possibility appears, and finally these phantasmagoria follow one another in such rapid succession that it seems as if everything were possible, and this is exactly the final moment, the point at which the individual himself becomes a mirage."
- the sickness unto death, soren kierkegaard
thus possibility seems greater and greater to the self; more and more it becomes possible because nothing becomes actual. eventually everything seems possible, but this is exactly the point at which the abyss swallows up the self. it takes time for each little possibility to become an actuality. eventually, however, the time that should be used for actuality grows shorter and shorter; everything becomes more and more momentary. possibility becomes more and more intensive - but in the sense of possibility, not in the sense of actuality, for the intensive in the sense of actuality means to actualize some of what is possible. the instant something appears to be possible, a new possibility appears, and finally these phantasmagoria follow one another in such rapid succession that it seems as if everything were possible, and this is exactly the final moment, the point at which the individual himself becomes a mirage."
- the sickness unto death, soren kierkegaard
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- my triangle.
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- maybe.
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- 22 years!
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- it's 3.17am.
- i'm sick...
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