Trying to sow reason and thought into civilization is like trying to grow a plant in concrete.
Trying to sow reason and thought into civilization is like trying to grow a plant in concrete.
―
Atrona Grizel
If someone
opposes me, I do not internalize it; it simply passes by. But if no one opposes
me, I get bored; there must always be something I can defy and neutralize.
―
Atrona Grizel
It is not that no
one should rule anyone, but that no one is “qualified” to even attempt ruling
anyone.
― Atrona Grizel
In societies where superficiality is widespread, what is striking is not ignorance itself, but the fact that it is accepted—or at least not resisted. Societies cling to whatever shared traits they possess in order to preserve a sense of identity, and even if those traits are mediocre or ugly, they sacralize them and persuade themselves of their value. The same applies to superficiality: if a society neither thinks nor produces art, it must justify that condition. Social norms perform this act of justification. Thus, society becomes a defender of superficiality and an enemy of depth. In such societies, certain expressions are common, for example: “Don’t think too much, life is fleeting,” “Don’t worry about it, just focus on your studies,” “Don’t be so serious, have some fun,” and so on. These may appear optimistic, but in essence they are symptoms of that cultural disease, and unless they are filtered out, society will not change, because superficiality will instead be seen as “warmheartedness.”
―
Atrona Grizel
Cleaning the
kitchen feels harder to me than crafting a thousand-page philosophical
masterpiece. Because even though I am internally totalitarian, externally I am
anarchic. I expect too much from myself, yet I refuse to carry any social
obligation. If I conform to them, it is only out of necessity, and they can
hold no inner value for me. I could even hire a maid just to heat up a simple
meal in the oven, because I don’t like feeding my body with my own hands. My
body—physicality itself—is something I don’t even care about, because I’ve
risen so high that it all seems “irrelevant” to me now. What I love is feeding
my mind with my own hands alone—a creature that never gets satisfied.
―
Atrona Grizel
There is no god
because there is the universe.
―
Atrona Grizel
I am completely
dependent on my inner world. I have nothing else. If it were to leave me, if it
were to break apart and disappear as well, what would I do? What would become
of me? All resources come from within; this Juche economy is not open to mutual
trade. Receiving external aid is not even a possibility, for the internal
affairs code plainly deems it illegal. The most effective force capable of
destroying such a structure is not pain, but exhaustion and doubt—exhaustion is
like a race car speeding at full throttle, suddenly slowing and crashing, while
doubting oneself is like the gears of an isolationist nation’s economy grinding
to a halt.
―
Atrona Grizel
To be a parasite
is to be a king.
―
Atrona Grizel
As long as people
expect change from political parties, nothing will change.
―
Atrona Grizel
Rhetoric feels
comic to me because I perceive this heavy fixation on human language as a kind
of confinement. Those people who claim to say “very deep and beautiful things”
with their polished words and inflections would probably seem quite ridiculous
to an alien who doesn’t know the language, because all they’d hear is mumbling.
That’s exactly how “speech experts” seem to me.
―
Atrona Grizel
Ruling people
feels like an insult to me. I do not want to stoop to their level. My main
concern is not with the masses, but with the frame in which the masses are
trapped. And that, entirely, is in my hands. I think of all those “great”
politicians who have ruled countries, and they all appear as tiny children from
where I stand.
―
Atrona Grizel
If it is assumed
that my camouflage is my personality, then the camouflage is working.
―
Atrona Grizel
When I see
physically disabled people taking photos in front of mirrors, using popular
gestures, and sharing them on social media, I think they are betraying
themselves. Such a person is vulnerable to society’s ugliness, and instead of
submitting to it and its values, shouldn’t they continuously unleash fire
without shame rather than hiding themselves? But then I realize I’m missing
something—not even “missing,” more like a conscious avoidance—they are not
betraying themselves, because that is exactly who they are. I am constantly and
desperately searching for depth in their shallowness, yet they are precisely
the ones performing those foolish gestures in their posts. Even if the body’s
conditions change, the mind’s characteristics do not necessarily change; their
identity is copied from society, even if society treats them like stepchildren.
This might also explain why people with mental disabilities almost always have
a collectively based identity. It is not difficult to imagine the behavior of a
typical person with low intelligence: constantly laughing, constantly making
noise, and constantly entertaining themselves. But isn’t that the case
everywhere? To have an independent personality is to be a personality
architect, and that requires carrying a creative consciousness—but this quality
exists neither in these people nor in society, and this makes “retarded” people
and ordinary people in society, in a way, equal. That means society is stupid.
―
Atrona Grizel
My way of showing
love to someone is to grant them reality, to make them someone who exists;
after all, people are unreal by default to me.
―
Atrona Grizel
Specific
individuals rarely provoke emotional reactions in me because I do not see an
individual at all. My emotions are cosmic and systemic—they are directed at
society and existence. Sadness, fear, anger: all are generally directed at humanity
if they are directed anywhere at all, because I do not see anyone else present.
Only society exists, and its different extensions. Even if the streets are
full, there are not many separate beings; there is a single entity: society.
Because society governs all these people; all their realities come from it.
That means they are not beings existing on their own, but puppets of a greater
force. For example, someone swearing at me on the street triggers absolutely
zero emotional response in me, because that person is not truly something that
exists—they are just an unconscious cog in a larger assimilation machine. After
all, wouldn’t being affected by things that do not exist—treating them as if
they existed—in a way show that I am schizophrenic?
― Atrona Grizel
My threshold for
pain is incredibly high because I grew up inside pain. Therefore, things that
drive others mad or even lead them into fights feel like “tiny noises” to me.
This perception conflicts with people’s reactivity, and so, as I see events this
way, I also begin to see humans as “tiny noises.”
―
Atrona Grizel
People are not
consumed by constant rumination in silence. Instead, they are driven by a more
primal madness—a frantic need to be with others, much like an animal reacting
to isolation.
―
Atrona Grizel
I think about
things so many times, over and over, that even the most serious and solemn ones
turn into ridiculous comedies.
―
Atrona Grizel
My philosophy, if
I must give it such a name, is not to be seen as universal or all-encompassing,
but rather as a kind of “weapon support” for weary intellectuals on a
metaphorical front line. For those who are not on the front line, and
especially for those who have never seen one, what I write will appear only
ridiculous and pitiable, or, at best, incomprehensible and confusing. My words
do not come from a relaxed and peaceful place but seep, as it were, from behind
bars, out of the heart of the chaos of a degenerate third-world country. I
write for those who feel completely invisible everywhere, for those who do not
abandon what they know even when everyone mocks them, for geniuses who live
lives of seclusion in the forests, for alienated observers in crowded rooms,
for solitary walkers at the edges of cities, for those who speak only to the
sky, for those who live their entire lives in imagination, and not for those
who spend their days moving their mouths, screaming and laughing, filling the
air with sound, and floating comfortably in the anesthesia of noise. I could be
a kind of kin to prisoners in solitary confinement, who see nothing but gray
walls, and to forced labour camp workers, who toil all day just for the next
meal—but not to the world outside.
― Atrona Grizel