I was frightened by every strange, identical thought, while my breath came easily.
Gratitude was taken away from all lightness, understanding from all otherness. In many places, the sweetness of increase created dependencies on the vortex of suchness, whose proximity to simplicity seemed to be completely lost. Striving for more took place in the complexity of togetherness, every word revealing displeasure, owing greatness to the ego's game.
If I gave the linguistic solution a quiet shout, doubts followed about implementing empowerment, the basis of which was fear. Message and benefit seemed just as important as possession & power, transparency on a soul level was considered a testimony to poverty. I was overcome by an initially unfathomable sadness at the loss of that original difference, whose powers created such parables that cancelled out any old traditions.
This world stood under a star of adaptation, beyond foreign understanding. That death of the natural and the linguistic formed a boundary for the maturity of thought, the breadth of which required no appreciation. Poverty in accumulated wealth favoured duality in order to come close to the striving for assimilation. No one understood the other, moulded by renunciation, the separating commonality nevertheless took place under the pretence of the powerful.
Intuition searched in vain for long-forgotten culture, the having lost the breath of the senses. Every model of reality was limited in its absoluteness, the stream of resisting illness revealed the nature of its own separation. But: from what?
The temporal game of recognition was realised in the wealth of ideas of trial and error, but the lack of understanding was defied by the violence of all the dissatisfied, paused incense the dreariness of the constantly recurring interrupted the imagined community. The sense of remembrance faded, the only thing that remained was the contrary as the conforming.
My breath flowed, softly. Thriving in the glow of the remote, whose simplicity required abstention. All meaning was never lost: different in the same, giving otherness to the same.
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