Wednesday, October 17, 2001

Thanks for not being scared of Anthrax, postman.

And boy this is a book. Even just from the outside.... Hardcover, with a cover that is matte and soft to the touch (reading books, is, after all, a tactile thing, too!). Books are good.

I don't expect to be dissapointed. I just read the first chapter, which starts like this:
"Depression is the flaw in love.

To be creatures who love, we must be creatures who can despair at what we lose, and depression is the mechanism of that despair. When it comes, it degrades one's self and ultimately eclipses the capacity to give or receive affection. It is the aloneness within us made manifest, and it destroys not only the connection to others but also the ability to be peacefully alone with oneself.

Love, though it is not phrophylactic against depression, is what cushions the mind and protects it from itself. Medications and Psychotherapy can renew the protection, making it easier to love and be loved, and that is why they work. In good spirits, some love themselves and some love others and some love work and some love God: any of these passions can furnish that vital sense of purpose that is the opposite of depression.

Love forsakes us from time to time, and we forsake love. In depression, the meaninglessness of every enterprise and every emotion, the meaninglessness of life itself becomes self-evident.

The only feeling left in this loveless state is insignificance."


I'll spend the day reading.