The Search.

I’ve spent the last few hours agonising over the wording of a post about something I read in a magazine today. Eventually I decided not to bother, since there was no point. A personal truth is a personal truth, and no amount of ranting by me is likely to replicate it in somebody else. Neither should it.

What transpired at the end of it all, however, was the sense that all notions of beauty and connection down at this level are defilable. It seems that what I’ve been seeking all my life – the Holy Grail, if you will – is that which is undefilable.

It isn’t surprising that only one person found it, nor that he died immediately from a surfeit of ecstasy. And I doubt that I’ll be the second; but if you have to keep looking, you have to keep looking.