In search of the question, I lost
myself I don't even know why I was
born at that time Was it because my parents loved each
other dearly, or was there a deeper meaning?
The miracle of whose life?
The Feldenkrais exercises creep past me,
they're all the same
Ask yourself this and ask yourself that
The phrases just thrash around the room
We've lost all sense of proportion
Even if it scratches at our consciousness
Nothing is as we see it at
the moment. A renewed mischief tells us to understand everything
. But caught in the darkness,
all connection seems to have frozen.
It's human to know
nothing, but no one wants to know that
. "I've never heard of it," we shout loudly to the world
. "I'm not interested" until you like it
. "I know everything!" Oh, really?
And again, you find yourself caught
Optimisation, self-flagellation, everything wonderful
you want is so close you can reach out and touch
it You can achieve anything if you just want it, they
tell us, and yet it's all our own fault
"Just reach out your hand," they sometimes say,
but cancer eats away at life while you watch,
creating something new, contractually agreed upon
. Change determines, uncertainty shapes.
You hold on tight to your home, a journey or a
green garden Art seems to save what cannot be saved
The mind considers security to be a new twist
But what follows only returns a new dispute
Dualism breaks open in a single breath.
The moment promises freedom from strife,
use beyond the moment's
measure. For it belongs neither to you nor to me.
And then it comes, the moment of illness
that leads to the jaws of death
You have processed nothing and yet your fame The moment
holds you back, far too much to do
Understood... the mind?
aaahhhhh....
Gone, what?
