Notes after watching Confessions of a Dangerous Mind:
Nietzsche said: “The man who despises himself still respects himself as he who despises.” I am a man who respects himself for not saying the things he wants to say but can’t. Or perhaps I despise the things I want to say, and therefore just don’t say them.
This movie twisted all my thoughts up around inside themselves, and I loved it.
Simultaneously I feel more alone than ever. Mary Anne Evans said: “What loneliness is more lonely than distrust?” How lonely was she, pretending to be George Elliot so she could publish as a man?
How lonely am I, typing to my friends, through this void, into nothing; not even talking with them; not even talking?
UPDATE: Here is another quote on loneliness: “Man’s loneliness is but his fear of life.” (Eugene O’Neill) This one gives me some small courage.
I’d say you’re about three miner’s inches of lonely, there.
So weird. This is the 3rd reference to George Elliot I’ve seen/heard in the last 24 hours. How odd is that? I’ve been meaning to get the novel Middlesex and, having mentioned it to two other people, I realized people automatically make the connection to Middlemarch — which I’ve never read. Now I want to read both. This is a sign for sure.
I’m sorry you’re lonely. Emily Dickinson wrote so many poems about loneliness. I seem to recall that in one she calls loneliness the ‘maker of the soul’. That’s something, isn’t it?