The chest is a cage\u2014am I inside it?
Neither inside the cage nor outside, but in the resisting cry of a folk song; in this boundless universe, I am the boundary. My heart is inside the cage; I am imprisoned in this compulsory sweetness. I am not beautiful, nor am I good, least of all; even if the cage is beautiful, I am not. The lament is not enough, language is not enough; let me tell you about your cage from within your cage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What are these firecracker flashes of news, these deep matters? What is science, what is curiosity, what is this solving-and-failing-to-solve? Only the absence of the apocalypse is piling up. I feel the pain that emerges when humanity gathers. I say we must sacrifice ourselves and our obstacles. In the end, everything will be sacrificed; perhaps if we understand it early, we can savor the view. We stand at the threshold of the last curiosity before death.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rebelling against life is futile; meaning lies in the whole of the event. Living today is only a stitch; tomorrow there is the continuation of the pattern to be lived. Hands on its hips, the tree of life\u2014whatever your desire is, it will become clear afterward; you cannot see it in a single stitch. The pains were only a small part, and the good days merely an addition; you are a small part of the universe, and that too is a part of the whole. Perhaps weaving or continuing will be difficult, but everything has meaning through what comes before and after; if the piece cannot be understood, make room for the whole. There are hundreds of thousands of stitches in this pattern; when you see the larger picture, do not rebel against death in vain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It is impossible to see everything without becoming nothing; to see everything, become nothing. Without going down and coming back up, it cannot be understood. How beautiful it is to warm up after being cold\u2014but not being warm itself. To drink water after thirst\u2014but not drinking water itself. To die and live\u2014but not dying. To learn the rules while playing\u2014but not playing. Everything is defined, except the human; everything turns, and the human remains still. Everything is connected to everything, yet the human is the exception. How does that happen? Don\u2019t explain it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They say this realm has burned and become what it is\u2014burned so much. Indeed, our ideas are in the midst of glowing flames. In a place of burning, fire-hearted words. It burns, yet there is no wish to go out. What seems to be burning is not space but time. Burned upon burned, son of burning. Your ancestor is fire, your offspring is fire, you are a son of fire, and your lineage is burning too. What if no one cares about this war? You burn, but the ash left behind is someone else. Fine, you burned your enemies\u2014but you consumed yourself in the process. Are these the faces you were angry with? They were always like that; you missed your chance to become something else. Human-fire willingly burns, these days. It burns; there is no wish to go out. This age is made of fire; it is not the one burning, it is time that is fire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I never understand why a human being longs to burn; we never understand it, especially these days. Desire is empty, information is empty, knowledge is empty; the age is pleasant and beautiful and alluring\u2014which is the worst of all. On your birthday, your fire is spoken of; on your grave, it is written. The great fire does not die down; we merely become accustomed to disappearing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The chest is a cage\u2014am I inside it?Neither inside the cage nor outside, but in the resisting cry of a folk song; in this boundless universe, I am the boundary. My heart is inside the cage; I am imprisoned in this compulsory sweetness. I am not beautiful, nor am I good, least of all; even if the cage is beautiful, I am not. The lament is not enough, language is not enough; let me tell you about your cage from within your cage. What are these firecracker flashes of news, these deep matters? What is science, what is curiosity, what <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1465,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[102],"tags":[443,144,86,94],"class_list":["post-1464","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-philosophy","tag-death","tag-existence","tag-life","tag-person","has_thumb"],"yoast_head":"\n