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the genuine is the opposite of the social.
The only remaining space where life was taken seriously was art. In art I looked only for such fullness of being. Beauty and fullness of being. On occasion I found it, and when I did it consumed me, yet the experience led to nothing, was perhaps nothing but the projections of an overtense soul, little lightning flashes in the darkness of the mind.
what we know is so bound up with what we see.
