BitterSweetLife

I've studied myself far more closely than I care to. I’m a book I’ve read too often. It was better to be naïve and young. At least, it was better for the cultivation of nice illusions. In the interests of self-image, no one should be allowed to be his own best friend.

Nevertheless, making the best of a bad situation, I have gained a deep appreciation, a keen anticipation, for the day when this broken machine called Ariel will be conclusively put to rights. Colliding intentions and actions will stop claiming victims, the stupid dialectic of the lovely and the selfish will be buried six feet under. Unadulterated beauty will spit in Hegel’s eye.

I’ve lost the amber glow of my own self-scanning glasses, the lustrous belief that there are no limits on what I can do and be. But I’ve gained a longing for heaven. Soul renovation: One day I’ll be Christ’s little brother, and that means perfection.

I guess this is what you would call a fair trade, in reality beyond fair—exchanging a human superstition for a divine reality. Honesty is bitter on the tongue, but the after-taste is otherworldly sweet.