Halls of the Dark Muse

Of course when one is reading a book, they cannot hear the characters laughter, or the sound of thier voice. They might imagine what the voice will sound like within thier minds, but it is never quite the same thing as acutally hearing the sounds physically in thier ears. It is as when one has a song stuck within thier head, the way they hear the song in thier mind is nothing like the way the song acutally sounds when heard with the ears.

Yet with this being said, I cannot help a rather currious phenomena with which I am experincing. I have mentioned before my obcession of to the book The Fountainhead, and particuarly with Howard Roark.

And I take absoulte delight within his laughter. I matters not that I have never heard the sound of it, whenever he laughs, it sends a shiver down my spine. And I do so love to "listen" to him when he speaks.

I imagine the shape of his lips when he forms certain words, and his contemptous smile. The quiet arrogence within his eyes. There is a purity and innonce in all of this, for he makes no effort to be arrogent, nor does he with intention look upon others with contempt, but that is just the thing, there is no one so imporant to him that he would expend such an effort upon them.

That is just where is natural arrogence comes form, the fact that there is no person with whom is imporant enough to rise within him any particular emotion.

There is such a raw and natural sensuality within him. I imagine the lines and angles of his body, are like those of the buildings he makes. He moves with an easy langur, and a felines grace, and I imagine he moves through the world much the way a feline does, he cannot deny that he is a part of it, and yet he will not let any of it touch him.

Just as a cat easily strides though life, absent-mindly aware of its own existince, and yet dlieberately but without acutal effort giving know acknolwgement to the exisitence of others around it.

That is a sort of detachment which I envy greatly for it is of the kind one must be born with, and one could never hope to aspire to.