Bliss & Blood

Summer night. With three typhoons approaching simultaneously. Sleeping on the floor together with N, F, S. Me & NFS. A network system, binding us all here together. This is blood. And this is bliss, watching each of them has their own sleep. Sound and sweet. Yet altogether different. Yet all here together. In this night when typhoons are approaching, when the floor warms by blood.

Tomorrow going to have the fish tank water refreshed and refilled. Too noisy the pumped water is.

Body Deteriorating

“to die is gain; for eternity is then only a single night.”
~~ Socrates, his Apology.

Body seems to keep deteriorating. Chest sometimes gets so tight that breathing would become an ordeal. Don't know if one can be like Socrates, accepting the coming death happily and peacefully. Or to dispel the fear for an untimely death so easily as he did.

If eternity is night, then the night that suffers insomnia is still haunted by the loss-ness of living. Not losing life, but the living itself always as loss, as continuous losing and lostness.

At that night where eternity should have for one claimed respite, the body being remembered pushes away the peaceful darkness. Yet the body in its deterioration also brings back the faint yet somewhat horrible memory of that night in which awakenings in to the loose-ness of living will never be possible.

Two-foldedness of bodily remembrance.

Zero Count

Everything comes back to where all should restart. How can one have no solicitude for the future, or better, for time itself?

Though time should be passivity, or patience, in waiting for that which one would never lay fast hold of, this understanding cannot dispel the solicitude at present, a present in wilderness with nothing to look ahead of or back at, any more than accrue courage to confront the unknown that is one's equally uncertain fate.

Crying, want to be. Crying. Crying for that nothing in front of which one can shiver only. Tears as a token foreboding a year of throat-slitting test. A token betokens of a year of darkness.

If only tears can be shed.