Talking about hedonism
Autor: V.H. | Publicado: 2013-04-20T02:37:00-03:00



&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;Usually I can only find
something at least remotely related to Peace by two ways: either I’m drinking
or I’m sleeping . And I should say that if I sleep after I had been drinking,
well, this peace is way deeper and longer, because few things can be as heavy
as a drunk’s sleep. So anyway now it’s close to 1.30am and all I have left is
one can of Budweiser and some cigarettes, Lucky Strike ones. And I’m not
exactly a great fan of cigarettes – and of beer, as a matter of fact – but it’s
way better than nothing. At least it sounds like peace. It smells like peace.
It tastes like peace. Another thing that is happening right now is the
mothafucking Doors blowing up on my stereo. Soul Kitchen rolling right now and
fuck yes, that really sounds like peace. And sounds a little like death, which
is almost the same fucking thing, right?

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Fragilized by
time, betrayed by life and by its own body. I’ve read this recently and it
really touched me in some ways that I am not able to fully understand. But I
think it has showed me something important, better, it has fucking proved me
something I’ve already imagined. What’s the use in trying to live your life the
way a good-doctor-follower-samaritan would do if you can eventually just, you
know, get one freaking unbeatable cancer and that’s it? Life shouldn’t be
anything more than one great masturbation. One great search for pleasure from
and to yourself. Everything should be done trying to reach, sustain and enlarge
your quick moments of pleasure. There is no reason to sacrifice your youth and
energy trying to save some things for
the future. Because future is such an empty word that may not come true to many
of us. And suppose you get hit by a car by the time you finish reading this
little piece of shit, what is going to be your last thoughts? Are you going to
think about the dishes you should have washed? Or about the clothes you should
have left at the drycleaners one day or two ago? I’m sure you’re not going to
remember the little small pieces of pleasures you had during your meaningless
life. But maybe, and just maybe, if your life is converted, if you make your
life become this huge masturbation, this resilient seek of pleasure, well, in
that case, you might very well die with a happy smile on your face. Because you
can be at least vaguely sure you did a many great deal of things.

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; But what if I die
the minute I finish writing this piece of crap?

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; What am I going
to think of my life?

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Am I going to be
able of dying with a happy smile on my face?

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Probably not.

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; It sucks. And
it’s all my fault.

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Yeah.