Thursday, November 19, 2009

Don't slaughter your finest impulses

I don't want to be one of those people who used to do a lot of things but doesn't seem to do much of anything anymore.

Things I used to do a lot but don't do anymore but would like to return to doing a lot: causing mischief, playing basketball, driving aimlessly, writing, reading, playing tennis, playing in the woods, drawing, fomenting dissent, studying anarchism, crashing my computer from messing with it, long walks...

One thing I used to do a lot but didn't for a long time which I've recently returned to my life is bike riding. Julie and I got a couple cheap Huffy cruiser bikes and while we don't ride them every day, we do ride them somewhat regularly and it always feels great.

Every day we slaughter our finest impulses. That is why we get a heartache when we read those lines written by the hand of a master and recognize them as our own, as the tender shoots which we stifled because we lacked the faith to believe in our own powers, our own criterion of truth and beauty.
From Sexus by Henry Miller

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