Diary of a Madman: Aphorisms, Maxims and Allegories

I would save you the pain of thinking too awfully hard of the theory of altruism: nothing is ever quite just given for no reason other than ‘inherent rightness’. I cackle uncontrollably while saying those words.

We all have an irresistible pull towards something. I am not exempt. You are not exempt. And here, listen close: no one, and yet everyone is responsible for their actions. This is not a very pretty fact; but it is a fact. And yet… wrong turns, if I may, can still be made. ...

"...A lull came. A subtle hush in the dynamic. The undulations of my ire grew to the precipice of rage – which I knew he had the power to snap into fury. He seemed calmer than ever. The why’s and where’s of his clam were imponderable – and frightening. But why would I be frightened? What was ‘fright’ to me at this juncture? As fright is a foreign notion to me now, it was not then…Indeed, it, and my own choler seemed much the same thing, in no way exclusive of one another. And there 'the People' ...

On my first day of Gerechtigkeit Penance, I learned how lazy I was, and how I had released myself to all things "easy."

On my second day of Gerechtigkeit Penance, I learned of that which is possible, for myself.


On my third day of Gerechtigkeit Penance, I learned I was capable.


On my third day of Gerechtigkeit Penance, I knew something greater than what I desired.


On my fourth day of Gerechtigkeit Penance, ...

...To what, to whom, do I owe my capacity for suffering? To what, and to whom, do any of us - the Order of the 'Other'? For that is what, indeed, we are: 'we' fit no mould; 'we' understand no Absolute; and - what is more - 'we' find a vainglorious ring to the sound of the trumpets of "modernity"... what have we to do with the modern? - as recognisers of the Retrogression of the type 'Man'?

We owe no umbrage, nor do we owe a genuflection to what is occurring during the times ...

We suffer, and openly engage in the suffering, of potentialities. We further find that to do so evokes an awareness of that which is necrotic in our willed , and willing essence; which is to say, that which subsumes the ignoble characteristcs that our respective Lines have infused. Whilst the 'operation' is a delicate proceedure, to be sure, we find ourselves with very little concern of that which is delicate. Almost as if the best within us, being the best, commands, "Tear it out! - so what ...