And I crumble back into dust
Heya.
Long while. Didn’t get much done when I was home and now I’ve been travelling for two and a half weeks. Seems like I’m coming “home” though. Seems like I’m coming something else too? And then, what is home again?
I read a beautiful book by Giorgio Agamben called “the coming community”, in finnish of course. I don’t really intellectually get the half of it, sentences are so difficult, but intuitively I get much out of it. After all the book is closer to poetry than anything else. Again I notice a lot of coherence with buddhism or zen (whatever they may be), but then again it’s quite expected that from the text I don’t understand I understand concepts that are already familiar to me. I have to read it again some time later and see what do I get then.
Then I started Arthur Schopenhauer’s “death and immortal” and it’s bloody buddhism again. rather nice in a way… but read more from wiki if you want to.
So why am I so afraid of life when there’s nothing to be afraid of? Everything happens, has happened and will happen. And I crumble back into dust. (which is of course from Nadja’s “Bug/golem”)
Otherwise I’m in… well where the hell am I? sometimes happy sometimes sad… or not pleased, It’s so easy to be not pleased and I don’t know why. Everything should and is good so why I’m so unable to enjoy it?
Like what the hell is it that I want anyway?
Could someone please tell me this. (except of course I want the fairytale life where they lived happily ever after)
Oivoi.
Yesterday I visited science museum and saw art pice called “listening point” it was good, really good. What kind of lives we do live around this planet.
Oivoi.
