““you don’t understand the protoknowledge we’re born with, coded into our cells: soon soon soon enough we die. Even before we’ve seen the breast, we’re crying to the world that we want; and the world doles out its milkiness in doses. We want, we want, we want, and if we don’t then that’s what we want: abstemiousness is only hunger translated into another language. Yes there’s pain and and heartsore rue and suffering, but there’s no such thing as “anti-pleasure”: it’s pleaure that the anchorite takes in his bleak cave and Thoreau in his bean rows and cabin. For Thoreau, the Zen is: wanting less is wanting more. Of less.””
