The night is false, sometimes the night is.
Sometimes I let myself be part of it, you see, I am a coward.
We let ourselves into the garden; how grandeur, how want. The lost soft supple abstract.
“The nothingness of obscenity can’t be subjected to anything. The fact that it’s not a cancellation of existence but only a notion, and one resulting from contact, far from alleviates, and actually increases the disapproval generally felt. It is unrelated to value. It is not as if the erotic summit is something heroic attained at the cost of harsh sufferings. Clearly, the results bear no relation to the efforts”
Georges Bataille | On Nietzsche