If your browser does not accept cookies, you cannot view this site.There are many reasons why a cookie could not be set correctly.
This site stores nothing other than an automatically generated session ID in the cookie; no other information is captured.
In general, only the information that you provide, or the choices you make while visiting a web site, can be stored in a cookie.
For example, the site cannot determine your email name unless you choose to type it.
Allowing a website to create a cookie does not give that or any other site access to the rest of your computer, and only the site that created the cookie can read it.
So there’s a great essay written by Sigmund Freud called “On Transience.” And in it, he cites a conversation that he had with the poet, Rilke, as they were walking along this beautiful garden. Everything dissolves in meaninglessness when you think about the fact that impermanence is a really real thing.
And at one point, Rilke looked like he was about to tear up. Perhaps the greatest existential bummer of all is entropy.
This is magnificent.” And then Rilke says, “Well, I can’t get over the fact that one day all of this is going to die.” All these trees, all these plants, all this life is going to decay.
And I was really struck by this, because perhaps that’s why, when we’re in love, we’re also kind of sad. Beautiful things sometimes can make us a little sad.
And it’s because what they hint at is the exception, a vision of something more, a vision of a hidden door, a rabbit hole to fall through, but a temporary one.
And I think, ultimately, that is kind of the tragedy. Or do we embrace the Buddhist creed of no attachment?
That is why love simultaneously fills us with melancholy. Do we pretend not to care that everything and everyone we know is going to be taken away from us? I think I more side with the Dylan Thomas quote that says, “I will not go quietly into that good night, but instead rage against the dying of the light”.