Existence is the end of endless eternity without a beginning or an end.
And this that you call solitude is in fact a big crowd.
Nothing is made, nothing disappears. The same changes, at the same places, never stopping.
We will go far away, to nowhere, to conquer, to fertilize until we become tired. Then we will stop and there will be our home.
In the lie of truth lies the truth.
To transform a grimace into a sound sounds impossible, yet it is possible to transform a vision into music, to go outside an enslaved personality, to become impersonal by transforming into sand, into water, into light.
Faith is a question of eyesight; even the blind can see that.
There are many secrets; don’t try to resolve them all.
Through words to the meaning of thoughts with no words.
Possible impossibility emerges
From an impossible possibility,
Or possibly, impossible possibility
Blooms from the impossibly possible impossibility.