FILIPPO SORCINELLI Ennui Noir Extrait 100 ml DEEP BOREDOM IS LIKE A FOG THAT UNITES ALL THINGS IN A STRANGE INDIFFERENCE Heidegger I penetrate the shadows if not the heart of the darkness of the imagination. It is a sweaty sound, that runs under the pulsating veins. It is bated breath when you half close your eyes. It is apathy of an imposed, marked infinity; impotence to live. Free expression of disgust and joy in experiencing enjoyment. You don't look, you don't read, you don't work. Everything is perfectly attached to the encrustations of our darkest feelings. It is a filamentous dust that ignites when blown; a black rust that bites, corrodes a layer only to attach itself... but that, forming, protects you. Black boredom protects because it is generated in solitude and with solitude it makes you a ferrous shield against the mediocrity that is behind the door of everyday life. It is steeped in black boredom chi is capable of digging into its interior to find it and make it become a gift. Even black boredom, making you ajar, projects you into another dimension, far from any banal and certain contamination. There is no certainty in black boredom, since it is experienced on you, becoming part, crust, bark of your most submerged forest... a flute alone in the fog of your ego. "demonic is the void, and boredom is to be understood as a nothingness that permeates the whole of reality". "those who are bored are the chosen ones, the nobility!" "they are something more than a flattery for tired men". Boredom presupposes a moment of reflection on oneself, of contemplation of one's position in the world, and this requires time, a good that is scarce. What is boring does not annihilate man but fertilizes him in a horizontal line of the whole of life: abandoning oneself to the mortal horizontal in life, far from the inferior natures. Boredom is a need that forces man to work on himself and his existence, not on a smooth surface but in the pauses of needs, dove the game of tedium is strong, a miserable desire that digs into the linear treasure of eternity to become a deep and circular joy. Getting used to the excitement of taking. Acting on the bored calm of associations and freeing oneself from the accusations of being empty, bursting abruptly into the libido, dove the impossible changes into the possible, generating from nocturnal insomnia, with a monotonous stimulus produced by the psychotic sound of the material sea of the external world. And external perception subtracts behavior, calling odors of sap in vanilla; and connected to Vetyver and the complexity of a Patchouly from Sumatra, Singapore and Borneo, they break down the wall of the hyperactive in which empty time is configured as a horizon of possibilities. It is no longer a question of letting time pass, but accepting its inexorable passage. The fog of the lost living thickens in the heart, in the enchanted forest of cedar woods, on the damp carpet of the Heliotrope, lover o...
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