In my final semester of undergrad, I decided to confront my fears and read some Nietzsche. I bought a copy of “Thus Spoke Zarathustra” and a really nifty bookmark. I read those first hundred pages with the same zeal that a hungry person attacks a Golden Corral Buffet. Ironically, I thought I was filling myself up with scrumptious thoughts and ideas, but I left feeling ill and my body upset.
I was afraid to read Nietzsche because I easily fall into words. I remember reading Goethe’s Faust for the first time and being so charmed my Mephistopheles. I knew that reading this book would be my test in the wilderness. The facing of the temptation to throw away all that I had thought to be true.
That semester, I remember being very mean and condescending. I hurt the feelings of people that I enjoyed and was fond of, I even hurt people without realizing that I had done so. I mean, I’m not very nice to begin with but I was meaner than usual and I attribute it to the words that I was feeding myself.
I know I should have put it down sooner but now I’m facing the temptation to finish reading. I’m going to read it but I hope that I can do it with a guarded heart and mind.
I know…it’s just a book.