In these few marks on paper, I offer you everything that I have, and everything that I am. Thus I exist in this work both physically and spiritually. If you read me as you read the works of others, I will appear empty. Project your own understanding onto me, to make me meaningful, and you will destroy me. Dismemberment does not appeal to me, so I will warn and warn again in an attempt to confound. And even if my warnings touch only a single one of you, the effort will have been worth the trouble.
These writings will not be welcomed by the run of humanity, nor are they intended for such animals – the herd, obsessed with happiness and the preserving of the life. My wisdom is not for the public life and the organizations within it, neither for mass movements nor break-away sects. Groups appeal to the herd mentality, but the wisdom I speak of in these writings cannot exist in such an environment and in such minds. Rather, I preserve this work for the mere handful of worthies, the true individuals, few though they be and far between. You will know yourself to be one of these precious ones when the externals of authority and tradition fill you with disgust, and when you at last delve into your own intelligence in search of your own wisdom.
~ Kevin Solway
The following passage is an excerpt from ‘Poison of the Heart’:
Entertainment: a way of avoiding boredom.
Boredom: when you don’t want to think about life and can’t find entertainment.
Loneliness: what people who are attached to the company of others call boredom.
Depression: when you are forced to think about life, and don’t like what you see.
The Strength of Attachment
So, you wish to know the strength of your attachment for a particular thing? Look no further than your need for it, because need is attachment. If you wish to know the character a person, then look where their love alights: no one can hide.
Attachment to the future
The girl says: “Some day my prince will come, and take me away from all this.”
We all live with the hope that our daily toil is leading towards perfection. We believe
the reward for all our suffering is just around the corner, and that soon, everything will
be different. Indeed, it is commonly said that hope is the only thing that makes life
That which is commonly said is always wrong. Hope does not make life worth living,
because it is in vain. Perfection never comes to the foolish, no matter how long and
deep their faith. It is not surprising the elderly feel bitter and cheated.
If a cart is not moving, do you hit the cart, or the horse that pulls it? If we do not attain
perfection are we to blame, or the method we use to attain it? The method is the horse,
and we are the cart. Foolish hopes cannot carry us to our destination.
A job is not merely a tranquillizing drug forced upon the ego, but is a dangerously
addictive and destructive poison.
Work destroys the mind more effectively than anything else, which is precisely why it
is enforced. After all, we are all equal, and therefore nobody must be permitted to have
a mind. Work saps you of your thought by a process of taking your mind prisoner,
monopolizing it, absorbing it, preventing you from thinking about anything other than
work. It becomes your life. You become it. What is left?
You may not enjoy your work at first, but you soon change to accommodate it. In time,
work comes to possess you so thoroughly that every moment away from work is spent
recovering . . . in preparation for work. We come to accept work as a necessary
sacrificial ritual, in which we sacrifice ourselves.
“Everybody needs love” and “everybody works” become uttered in the same breath –
two dogmas that represent the cornerstones of our entire existence. Together, they
successfully banish freedom of thought from society. Yet is this not what we really