"To think is to mutilate, all thinkers are infirm." The Spittoon
of Solitaire, Nihil Messtavic.
We will probably never know who took the trouble to cover thousands of yellowed pages of a fine writing subtly distorted by anguish and bitterness. His interest The staff was both to philosophy, literature, as to drawing and poetry. The contents of the trunk showed it to me. That's all we know about him. That is all we will ever know, most likely. I spent months transcribing, with the invaluable assistance of translator friends, the thousands of pages in the trunk Messtavic Nihil, I keep the taste of a bitter-sweet sip of arsenic burning ice and voluptuous with a razor blade dipped in oil of vitriol. His despair is no return, his fatal attraction to nothingness, unlimited. Is to explore this extraordinary thinking - outside the world - I invite you here, by deliberately starting the most demanding Messtavic writings, his thoughts and aphorisms. (Vedma Nadasty taken from the introductory notes).
Preview:
Nothing is going well, ever, everything is still waiting on the highway from the worst.
When I am alone, there are still one too!
The meaning of life is to search the dead before plunging.
When the Earth wanted to commit suicide, she asked God to transform the ape into a man. A slow and painful death assured.
Nothing is true, everything is false. Except death.
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