made of language

Is the unknowable unknown
the scariest place?

Is it that language doesn’t travel there?

Why rock the boat?
Why waist the time?
Why not stay the same?
Is realization that desirable?

I can’t travel there? Feelings get go but I can’t?
Am I made of language?
So is this what it’s like to be
something that doesn’t take up any space?
A name an identity a host a planner.

What will I do with myself when I die?

the proper strategy

What’s the proper strategy?
Is to achieve silence then while silent to expect nothing and
be prepared for everything?

Must I establish a practice that is habitual
and have the courage to stay surrendered (silent)
when the big fish (the mystery) comes to take the bait
(a being with a surrendered identity)?

Is the easiest way to get something — not having to have it?
For example, a bank loan, enlightenment, and the many more?

the land of the mystery

Could it be that meaning, purpose, and significance
can be seen everywhere and are found inside of me and
to feel them I have to uncover them because I’m the one hiding them?

If there’s one thing for certain, it’s my belief that my intentions are reasonable.
Can this alone keep me in power for the duration?
Is my theme song Long Live the Status Quo.

Is the unknown, the land of the mystery,
alarming and scary and must I find it, face it, and die?
Is the highest meaning of life found in a death, my death while the being lives on?

Is it impossible to find out if I can be resurrected?


might it just be language

Is it that life and existence are meaningless
or is it that life is full and overflowing with meaning
but I’m shut off from it by my beliefs
or might it just be language?

Am I shut off because I’m thinking I’m separate
and is thinking I’m separate enough to create the illusion
that my life has little significance?

Is to be a part or separate the question?


hard to come by

Why am I thirsty while surrounded by fresh water?
Why am I hungry while filled with the best nutrients?
Why is the obvious so invisible and hard to come by?

Is it because I deal in ideas?
Are ideas like vines hanging down and
must I move about swinging from one to another?
Do I have the guts to fall to the jungle floor on purpose
and risk being eaten alive?