(questions)

XVI.

         I never run out of things to write. It’s like the act of living is an act of witching thoughts, into existence; an almost unequivalence to the loss of things in the universe. Unless to think, itself, is to lose; in itself, thinking, perhaps, may be nothing. In a person, perhaps creation; in time, perhaps transition. Questions at Any Where are always lost, always dying. Questions, these lonesome thoughts, halfway and full of life, are not over for as long as they are questions. So full of life and with time. With time, questions render death and loss---they are dying all the time. Always moving closer, to an answer, to a death, whether the answer is right or not. Because truth does not really lie in anything, is like a potential energy in all things, and arises between things, so that Truth can really stand alone and eternal, by itself, and still be Not to others. Questions, too, can be eternal, perhaps may never die; the answer that tries to bring a question to its end may not be right, or answer enough. From another perspective; perhaps from another world. It’s an emergent phenomenon, this business of living and death, questions and Truth.

Some days I can feel the balance and the paradox, although usually it happens chronologically. I see one side of the coin, and not long after I discover the other, and rarely I feel both at once and nothing changes. And everything does, because something does and it affects everything. And there is no question. 

         One always conceives itself then quickly dies, of its own. As though my mind were the parent; yet it's always the child.

Is to be this way, to be alive, to falsely deem the Experience a continuous line, and discover, at a consecutive point, that it is not a line? Why do I never need an answer? Do I continue to live this unquestionable Experience the way I am? Could more insight change anything? I never ask these things, I conceive them and never give them life. But then, what is life? I abort this question too. All my answers lie in continuity, even when I see death die. Anything goes, Everything.