The misery of my life lay in that too, that I couldn't captivate anyone.
I feel like Houellbecq's Tisserand. Despite the most beautiful ties, which he tied, golden, dotted,
colored; he remained a toad. where he showed up, people retreated from him. He had to see, that it
no demand gave on that (Dear)market for him and one New Year's Eve he drove the car into a tree, one
to put an end to the matter.
The excluding can be the body, like Tisserand (whose face resembled a toad). But it can also
something externally difficult to define. It can be unfathomable, for those who exclude and the excluded.
And, that's the way it is; it is unfathomable, and the unfathomable itself is the strange and comical. And the weird and strange is untouched by the majority of them, who recognize themselves as equal, at least not until then, until you get it out of the “status of leper” lifts out and as something “Precarious or deviant declared”. Now, since it is declared, it is treated as belonging. And the value, that such a person/group has, now arises from the supposed tolerance of the environment, die gewisse Randständigkeiten für sich und ihre eigene Profilierung beansprucht etc.
But being different is a kind of brand,
that you have to carry like a cross on your back for a lifetime. And one can only wish retrospectively, to have been at least a plant among plants, gives, who knows, different herbs can stand next to each other, without that instinct of human branding. Then it is nature itself, which eats and kills. And not, as among humans, the hypocritical perfidious culture.
(29.4.22)