These days, truth has disappeared. In a peculiar way, it just doesn’t matter. No reason to fight for truth. I can believe anything to be true, and I don’t believe in anything. Immediacy and impermanence are my closest siblings. They sing songs from the roofs, sometimes as the birds, with their light chirping, just for a second, again and again. Another time as the distant sirens of an ambulance, singing of life’s urgency to be saved from its crumbling.
There is a silence in everything, that greets me. It smiles at me through suffering as through joy. Tears are as beautiful as laughter. The pain of longing and loss, cutting deeply into the veins of life, and the gaze of love that just tells me: yes. There is just home and no other place. There is no escape, and that’s liberation.
I don’t need to change a world that I barely understand. Sure, I’ve accumulated knowledge and can recognize patterns, and I am effortlessly response-able whenever life opens a door, or closes one: it’s a dance in which we merge.
We were never two.
