Lorinc Kosz - Diaries

Every pursuit leads to death.  Oddly, the pursuit in an obvious confrontation with this is perceived to be whimsical, vacuous or egotistical; but it is actually all the 'normal' pursuits in life that are almost revolting in their naivety when contemplating mortality, limited time and being.



She will travel.  The question was always did he or she travel?  Somehow travel was supposed to give meaning to life or suspend the end from approaching in some way.  But in reality, travel is helpful only when it is undertaken with the realization of how pointless and unfulfilling it is.



Literature is mischief.  The economy is mischief.



The thing the system can not stand is the bare truth at the center.  Everything is conducted, built, spoken and written -things are moving- away and around this center and it builds upon itself; circles of being, growing further and further away...until the plague, the war and the absence come: the plague, the war and the absence that wipe away what was built from the unsaid.


trns. by Alfred Kregg