I have a rage within me, against the world and all the people in it. I have a rage within me, against society and its obscenities. I have a rage within me, against those things that people call normal and against those things that drive our base passions.
It has been said that all writing aspires to be music – as if music were somehow pure in thought and perfect in form. To aspire to be like music is to aspire to be imprecise, incomplete, and incommunicable. Music can be beautiful, but it is entirely subjective. In the area of intellectual clarity, the greatest music of the greatest composers is no more intelligent, and no more profound, than the mucking of a child in a sandbox.
So I have no music for you, just words; just a story that I have been thinking about lately. It is the story that has caused all of this turmoil in my head, and has caused this disjointed and senseless preamble.
YOU ARE READING
Breaking Young Divinities
Teen FictionA candid and spiritual coming-of-age tale about a boy who grows up in the housing projects of 1980s Toronto and comes to grips with young adulthood in the 1990s. He lives a sheltered childhood until high school, where he meets Jen, a mysteriously tr...
