travelling,
latent footprints,
tracks that bring us to undiscovered countries.
floating,
soft ripples,
waves that bring us to stationary ferry points.

we can start sooner than later,
homecoming happens without deliberate attempts.
keep on trying to not try.
the choice has not been made, it was taken.
we're not here to understand the choice,
we're here to be here.
to maintain the distance,
always a mystery.

as I progress,
the silence deepens,
my eyes turn,
and yesterday becomes today.
dialectics do not work here.
it is actually a fight to the end.
loneliness if not in body, at least in my dreams.
to meet the unknown.
to hesitate, cursed by the fecundity of my rich ignorance;
give birth to death.
zeal to go beyond death,
alas, vanity.
listen to whispers ceaselessly.
fallen to the point of numbness,
numb to the touch, but mostly,
to the soul.
release occurs, at the point of leaping,
when the fall is endless,
truth departs,
to reveal just mercy,
loosening my grip,
am I?
the echoes disappear.
to the final horizon,
future extinctions of hope,
annihilate fire itself,
perpetual thirst,
floods end.
the titans of tidings,
bolts of fiery sarcasm.
but to face them all,
one has to do so in silence.
a silent void.
ready to contain more than one can.
plates crumple,
to reveal new worlds,
clashing in swords and amass banners,
the inner war will end.
the final consciousness to make us all look like idiots.
but the void remains.
always too early to say.
The Said has been said.
what more? what else?

always a mystery.
always meant to say adieu.
a fatal thing to do, but between life and death,
one doesn't have much choice, yes?

yawns

there are always a lot more other things to do, unwillingly.
they are done, anyway.
any second now.
can't stop the flow,
there are also a lot of things we give up. gave up.
so,
keep the visions in us,
ungraspable,
unspeakable,
unfathomable,
only to torment us each night, that which refuses to acknowledge the repetition of the new,
so
find not worlds here,
but to destroy the here and now,
with the fire of creation.
unable to reach more hearts eventually,
to be the other of myself,
a body with broken organs (you're both wrong Deleuze and Zizek)
der Sieg der Vernunft
ist, vorloren.
der Weg ist von innen heraus.
always other and Other.
ich vermisse mich sie, meine Angstgegnerin.
an absence highlighted,
awaiting a predestined latent sign,
wait, and

KEEP QUIET,
BODY,MIND,SPIRIT.WITNESS;

i do not know what else to say.