purely conjectural
Sunday, April 22, 2007
After considering, the most profound thing I've ever read
"In a strange room you must empty yourself for sleep. And before you are emptied for sleep, what are you. And when you are emptied for sleep, you are not. And when you are filled with sleep, you never were. I don't know what I am. I don't know if I am or not. Jewel knows he is, because he does not know that he does not know whether he is or not. He cannot empty himself for sleep because he is not what he is and he is what he is not. Beyond the unlamped wall I can hear the rain shaping the wagon that is ours, the load that is no longer theirs that felled and sawed it nor yet theirs that bought it and which is not ours either, lie on our wagon though it does, asleep. And since sleep is is-not and rain and wind are
was, it is not. Yet the wagon
is, because when the wagon is
was, Addie Bundren will not be. And Jewel
is, so Addie Bundren must be. And then I must be, or I could not empty myself for sleep in a strange room. And so if I am not emptied yet, I am
is.
How often have I lain beneath rain on a strange roof, thinking of home.
Labels: existentialism, Faulkner, meaning, quotes
Posted by stochastic ::
8:47 PM ::
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