Hello, Oscar. 

This would be a conversation starter I guess. We all have some idols in mind. Ficticious beings that we contruct in our minds. Derived (or not) from a real person… We construct them for so long that they distance themselves from the origin they once were. As you might share them with others, they become so different over time, that only the name or recollection link them together. They are not something, as much a they are fruit or “tumour” of our own brain. You start to imagine how they would react in certain situations, as we engraved this as a fact for them. I feel something similar happens when you meet someone online. Somehow the pieces of inforation that are fed to us, give rise to a mix of the person itself and a mind construct. Therefore, it ight always feel like a small shock when you finally start to share moments with the person… see what I mean?

Anyway…I diverged.

I was going to talk ¬†abit about Oscar. Althou a rich artist, I feel in love with his only novel. But his mastery in “mind-twisting” was fascinating (still is…). And I mean real manipulation here… not what we are currently experimenting out there…not just the decriminalization of criminal thinking. I mean real twist… he analyses human nature to a level that even half of us cannot follow. I certainky always get surprised at the end of his narratives. Because he shows the worst in us. He makes us take the incorrect path while constructing our rationale through our basic values, and through simple observation. I believe he was a shattered man. not by his place in the social scale, but by his “clairvoyance”. There is only so much we can take, if we are the only one foreseeing it. His crudeness in exposing our open wounds was hard to take… it might show off his will to inflict some pain in the ones capable of understanding his views.

All in all… he was a revolutionary, he made us realized how we should be ashamed in the end… he made us finally ugly through our own standards. the fact that he might or not be terribly unhappy, misfited or just in excrutiating pais, living in this world might be, solely, the Oscar that grew in my mind. In my attept to understant how we can live so we produce such clear and cutting sentences. Oscar, might have lived a difficult life, or may have found a way around it. In any way, my oscar become mine, when I merged my comprehension of life with his work.

Only few really get sence of this phrase. Fewer get it like me. And maybe only me feels it that way.

The poison that our own rellentlessly thinking mind can produce might be, so far, the more excrutianting ever created. And what it anihilates, is our peace. Hence the need to keep our soul imprisoned.

Love, T.