Un comentariu Bineinteles ca nu mi-am dorit niciodata o viata superficiala. Iar a vorbi cu atata inversunare si pasiune despre acea viata inaltatoare, pe care prea putini pot sa o atinga, inseamna doar a-ti chinui cititorii, a-i face nefericiti pentru ca nu pot fi intru totul fericiti si vii. Este unul dintre scriitorii pe care i-am savurat cel mai mult. Punctam doar, pentru cei mai firavi si depresivi, ca Cioran nu a fost, asa cum si-l imagineaza multi, acel scriitor depresiv, in permanenta cautare a unei bogatii interioare infinite. A fost un om plin de viata, ale carui carti au fost bazate pe ganduri si trairi interioare sfasietoare, insa care nu l-au indepartat de viata de zi cu zi pe cat ne-am astepta si nici nu l-au inchis intre patru pereti albi.

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Cioran is of this type. Without any reluctance he talks about ideas and emotions that most people spend the major part of their lives trying their best to repress and ignore. Some thoughts need out. And if you had such thoughts, ones There is a reason why certain authors, regardless of their genius, are destined to remain relatively anonymous to the wider world. And if you had such thoughts, ones you knew were vital to your human condition, that keeping them in would result in total inner collapse, would you do anything but fling them into the arms of others, whether they were prepared to embrace them or not?

Accepting what Cioran has to say is adverse to almost all intuition, even to people like me who wholly agrees with him. But there is something comforting about what he has to say especially if you happen to be struck down by laziness much of the time. Both of these people entered the world accidentally. Both will probably stumble out.

I never watch Jeremy Kyle. I advise you do the same. Eventually you will understand that intense work is the best you can do to keep your subjective mind content. Regardless of whether you are accompanied on this path of misery, or are even eclipsed in your torment by others, it is still no consolation - and never can be - because all you will ever know is your own thoughts and pain, your own subjectivity.

Nobody can transfer their pain onto others. At best I think this human illusion is noteworthy because it acts as a sort of mental morphine. There are parts of this book which seem a little obscure, a little melodramatic. Not all is golden. But to arrive at such conclusions at twenty one is astounding, and is a bench-mark for anyone who wishes for precociousness. In the end, I find it a little sad and pathetic that Cioran will never be read as much as he deserves to be.

His readership will never fluctuate too dramatically because the majority of people will never be persuaded that his considerations are necessary ones - except maybe on their deathbeds.


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