Of Pleasures

My pleasures should not be human. What kind of inferiority would I be declaring? I must look to the sky, desire the unintelligible, the eternal, the supreme. I must not let myself be fooled by the rhythm of the gypsies. I must not waste my time interpreting man. There are better things outside my windows than humming other people’s songs day after day. My pleasures should not be rooted in man.

What domesticated species would I be lowering myself to? I must surpass my limits, create my thoughts, the private, the conceived. I must yearn for the suprahuman, the eternal, the divine.

The body is the router of pleasures. There is no pleasure that is not experienced through my body first. The pleasure of touch, the visual pleasure, the pleasure of hearing, the pleasure of a fragrance, the pleasure of tasting.

I could say that all knowledge through experience is even pleasurable. But we are tolerant and tolerable beings. We are beings who tolerate pleasure and predispose it because it would be ridiculous to live in ecstasy simply because of perceiving reality in real time.