Orpheus, Monarchy, Schopenhauer

It's been a while since I've posted a blog. A real blog. Not just musings on Echo around and about the fantastic life of the penis, trying to "make" love. A sort of default masculinity defined by a culture of the image: Louis XVI searching for his father's mistress in his Marie Antoinette, wanting almost to create a what in a who, when what that who is is already what one wants. But one always already wanted more, especially her, even though it was from this image, and with him she had to create. But now he must, without falling captive to her inquisition, strengthened, which seeks to realize he wants to create more that he wants in her, to show her, without her seeing it, how to play a role. All this is nevertheless the role of the penis as professor, which must be done, but ought not be a way of life. Seek to find, I hear, for to make remains always physical, confined even after construction to a world one always already wished to be free from, if one had not yet left. Orpheus, looking back, appeasing satan, cannot turn around, walk away; he is resolved to succeed at all costs, for dread of life with a harmonica. Circumstance prevents an ascent. Regardless, it seems he must succeed, even if it means losing the goal, in fact deliberately discarding it, immediately after success. A series of conquests. Another false blog.