An impression of inference, to know reality without ideas to decipher it, predictions in the forecast, “everyone will die”. Death cannot hold the present, futures are abstract, inescapable noise manufactures the vicious circle. Vague nebulous symbols produce the nectars of our insatiable desires, the by-products of our existence create an atmospheric haze, shadowing the real. Exploited and stripped for parts, things bleed from the stream of our nervous strain. Fantastic is the sound of silence, deafening the thoughts that dance around the center. To discover peace in knowing, without measure, without circumference or boundary to identify it by. All experience and wisdom dissolves in the light of non-action, to be contained by nothing, but beheld by everything.
Most words inspired and rearranged from The Wisdom Of Insecurity, by Alan W. Watts