King Lear is the poem of schizophrenia. The King becomes nature & nature the King; it singes his white head. Different identities freely flow upon bodies; this too is me, and I am that too. The three sisters, like Macbeth's, are fate; they channel will towards itself.
-
Show this thread
Love loves love, fails to find an object, and spends itself as an infinite flow, dissolving the subject and dragging its remnants in its wake. Everyone is the king, save for the fool, who decides to become himself, transcends time, addresses the audience, and hops off the stage.
0 replies
1 retweet
7 likes
Loading seems to be taking a while.
Twitter may be over capacity or experiencing a momentary hiccup. Try again or visit Twitter Status for more information.