Some of them, to the madness I'd say...the rest of them; to where the dust come from, perhaps? Like a re-born thing as a concept of learning brand-new ideas.
i am a painter who began my career as a child coloring outside the lines of my coloring books. i am a writer who started out by composing adventure stories while riding my stick horse around the backyard. as a child, i got in trouble for asking too many questions...i question that.
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I wonder...where does the dust come from?
Does it transform itself into dust, perhaps?
is dust a trail of where life has been?
Simply wonderful...
Could it be a trail of where life begins, where life gets to its end...a trail of a type of life?
perhaps it is a trail beyond the beginning, beyond the end.
And if so, then it would have the same answers to the questions which have no answers in this point of the border.
ahhh...
in this life, where do the answers take us?
Some of them, to the madness I'd say...the rest of them; to where the dust come from, perhaps? Like a re-born thing as a concept of learning brand-new ideas.
yes, to the madness.
and maybe the dust does contain an answer.....but in a language only the dust understands..........
I imagine that language you talk about being translated into the universe language, the one it's supposed to be understood by everyone.
a universal language...understood by us all...would we choose to speak it?
Would we know how to learn to speak it, when we had been choosing no to see it?
does anyone understand what universal is?
Well...since everyone has different concepts of what universal is....I doubt it.
do we have to see it in order to learn to speak it?
At least we'd have to feel it...
what if the language has no words?
Then it can be as symbols, cannot it?
Or by feelings, perhaps...
or as petroglyphs drawn upon cave walls....
Ah...I really liked that image you just gave me. Thanks.
What if we know it by heart but we can't just assimilate the elements that language is made of...
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