Colin Wilson
:: Ritual in the Dark
I ... I like being alive. It sounds obvious, but it's true. I never stop wondering why I'm alive and worrying in case it's all a mistake ... but for what it is, I love it. But the trouble is, I get tired. I think about it too much. And sometimes, if I'm lucky, some things give me back a sense of being glad I'm alive. A Mozart symphony, a hot frankfurter sausage in a cob, the smell of acetone. They revive my curiosity about living. They give me a new grip on being alive. Or sometimes a book does it. Almost never a person. I sometimes think people are the most uninteresting things in the whol universe. They only reflect the defeat I always carry around with me.
I just ... don't like people having preconceived ideas about me ... that I have to live up to. I'd rather be left alone.
If you get involved with people, you've got to stick to the rules. It's like going to a public school or joining a posh club. If you want the advantages, you have to stick to the rules. Well, I'd rather not join the club. I'll do without the advantages. It's like exhibiting. If you exhibit your work, you put yourself at the mercy of a lot of half-witted bastards who don't know paint from shit. But it's no good complaining about not being understood. If you put your work on show it's like asking people to look at it. And if they make stupid comments, you've got nothing to complain about, because you asked them. Well, so I don't exhibit. Then if somebody makes a stupid comment about my work I've got a right to fetch him a backhander across the mouth and say: Shut your f---ing noise; nobody asked you.