We Must Get Closer to the Essence of Life,

I suddenly thought of something. The river. What river. The one flowing past us.

Don't respect the circumstances of place. Respect what happens

Narrow road to the interior, yes. Some interruptions on the way. Facts are interruptions. And desires. And advice. Dandies.

'It's natural for a man to know his own mind, and to be sane

But nature loves to hide.'

That Reminds Me, I get along without you very well, except...

Just don't divert the river

I once received this astonishing letter, a truly atrocious one, especially upsetting because, just between us, most of what it said happened to be true. I sent it back. It came back to me. Sparring.The fix-blue mind could operate like a fugitive. Running from what. Running to something. Grace, the front row. And when you reach it. It doesn't exist.

II.

But we all need a rival. Mine is the word cozy. It's an ugly word, it's an award for an irresistible conceptual ugliness we all cherish, our rivals. They turn us into heroes. We all need a hero.They turn into heroes. They turn into us. They are not enemies, they are pushers, selling us the drug of self. The same as a thrill trusts itself as a fear, both rushes of nerve brought on by arousal. What is arousal. When you bring it so close it has no choice but to disappear. I think so. To turn into something else. Do so. True love seed in the autumn ground. Prude soul. But nature hates to hide. It's natural for a man to trade his own mind for love, and be insane, for pay, and to be perfect.

What I am trying to say is I'm too competitive to crave perfection, I want something more limitless, and therefore, steady, ruin something for me, turn it true and gone