I see myself diving off cliffs. Into enormous seas. I think about the light and the sense of oblivion it might induce. I wish to feel the heaviness of a heart that sings itself to a delight – finally lost in itself, finally in the chaste moonlight. The natural motionless waves stir up the bottom to give birth to faith. The core burns and it brings forth virginal beauty. Maybe a form of hope. Maybe a pristine medium of death.
How does it feel to go beyond the psychological fears and accepting that oblivion as the beginning? The hollow spaces all around converging into me. Touching myself and a whole multitude of beings consolidate. I wish to fall apart. Like a cloudburst, rain down fury upon you. The rage you conceived for yourself. I wish to produce the world again. Kiss the seeds of faith in the born and unborn alike and put you in the place you belong again.
The winds strike their massive conclusions upon me. Trying to fail me. They took my last bag of colors. Trying to uncolor me.
I have special hands. And bright eyes. I’m going to grow colors now. In my fields, envisage truth. The formless are dismal, the white bodies funereal – everybody asks for me. Don’t question the limbs, not the head, not the materials, not the journey, not the life. Don’t even question the questions of yourself. There never have been limits. Never the hope proved unfaithful.
There never has been anything to lose. Hail to the kingdom of faith.
The centeredness of our souls.