philosophy
I
do not see what I look at; I do not listen to what I hear; I do not feel what
I touch; I do not smell what I breathe in as if before me there were a black hole
of insensitivity.
I wanted to find out why it is so difficult
to find what one is looking for.
We always find what is right beside us
Am I too far away or too near?
Am I too absent-minded or too
attentive to the things I want to concentrate on? Could it not be concentration itself that dulls
sensitivity?
What is sensitivity? Is it a form of passive
perception and disinterested reflection?
Feeble as a reed which appears
stiff, hollow, inflexible and powerless, and yet vibrates to the slightest breeze and bends when necessary rather than
break
I am single minded
yet happy.
Thought is a mechanism;
I stop living when I think
Perception distinguishes me from machines,
journeys from plants, tool-making from
animals.
I create nothing. I am a craftsman.
My raw materials are what I am able to
understand and grasp. It may not amount to much and yet it seems to me gigantic and quite beyond
me.
The more primary and simple things are, the
more space they need.
My judgement is beauty
My space emptiness
When I look for something, a mechanism comes
into play and I am invaded by thoughts
but I prefer just to be
So I bequeath my thoughts to you!
message
and view