I think really that a new word or a whole new language must be invented for what i begin to feel. The old words seem empty, every one a cliche, as if to use them would condemn me, for immediately i'd be entangled in their morass of associations, their web of images. Not lively images, but rather blank, stale tableaux, arising out of mental lethargy.
But what i experience now, and for what it's worth this is an attempt to express it, is not a mere absence of fullfillment but something rounder, deeper, more intense and more tangible, more felt and expressive, making itself known insistently. Coming from all points of the compass at once, and occupying the whole sphere of what i call my life. To mention specific maladies would be misleading, as the root of each would only lead back to a greater cause, the main event, the prevailing curse of which i intend to speak. All problems are interconnected and together make a thriving sort of bacterial community which constitutes the self.
What's needed is a new language which takes as its first principle non-connectedness, seperation, emptiness. A language built in every case on the mutual cancelling-out of hope and despair. A sophisticated and useful vocabulary of feeling, with everything taken into account. Not dependent on the truly primitive semantic notion of opposites: espoir and desespoir.