Mai 17

Set of aphorisms, May 2017


Life is mere disappointment when the clocks keep ticking and the sun goes high. Always bring around the bad news on a sunny day, for its receiver will have a nice weather as a consolation. “At least it’s nice outside” the shopkeeper says, as if the vanishing of a cloud weighs better than a verbally announced tragedy. How ironic is it that the star which enlightens the deceived on the source of their suffering is the same one that lights up their world. True things hurt: they make a man shake with as much resonance as a baby’s throat playing disastrous chords from the moment it exits the womb. Do you hear the wind breathing through the maple trees? Its vernal freshness comes caressing your rosy cheeks as you ponder on what it is that makes you generous to others. No one needs to know their own limitations, yet this is what every being seems to strive for. Would you crave to know where the line stands between your strength and its negation? Think of how it would affect your sense of self to know fully well the place you hold on a map, rather than being amusingly tortured by the deprivation of this knowledge. Tell me, dear inquirer of your own borders, who is the son when his mother knows the horizon of his life? Where goes the heart when the blood remains stagnant? Why should the kingdom of your desires be stopped by some border when doubt and nothingness can be the meekly comfort in the depth of your failures? To hell with curiosity, to hell with certainty! Pray for the clocks to keep ticking a second once more after the other ’til heaven never comes down to Earth.


We shall hear the silences of the heart rather than its beats. The noise is constant and it promises to come back to one’s ears. Listen to how this quiet void tells the true nature of one’s thoughts. Listen inside your chest to what does not come about. Shut your sight and feel this emptiness yearning to be unheard. Although your whole being is known by the fences that guard it, the peaceful quietness of your heart shall reveal everything but your essence. By knowing this Nothingness that negates who you are, you discover the nature that shapes your very own soul.


Where comes about the world that implodes on itself? Hold on to sweet announcements they bring to your ears and have your lips be drenched from their anticipated reality! Wait in line to watch a truth unfold, and have your hands cut off from the unknown. Have them give up rocks and wooden sticks in exchange for tools specially made for you. Be the monkey of your Man, be his laughing-stock! For he holds a void more useful to life than any of your tools can do. Hammers and sickles are nothing but pointless fuss when a single one of us could exist for us all.

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