Remember that singer? She sang happily in the rain, the rain falling gently on her cheek. In the midst of her rising singing, she smiles upwards, full of happy smiles. Smile in the rain. The raindrops came down from the sky, from the abode of the gods, from the top that her upward-rising singing attempted to reach. A smile comes from upward joy. Rain silk is the gaze of God. God awaits the arrival of the singer at the supremacy of the singer. God loves children who are supremely oriented. It rains down on the singer.
God chose the singer. Yet God forsaken the singer. On another rise higher and higher, the singer's high note came to an abrupt end in the face of death. It wasn't that God chose the singer and asked her to die for God and receive God's side. Rather, God punished the singer. If we remember, we saw that after the miracle of raindrops, the singer got erotic fusion with his lover. In the dark corridor where the rain can't come, in the room where the light moving slowly through the rain. Singer and lover enter the softest vertigo. Since then, the softest and dizzy memories have been appearing in the singer's most ordinary life, in front of his father and in front of his aunt, happily stretching out. Yet God requires absolute singers, and he cannot allow human comfort to replace God's attempts to intimacy with God's chosen people. He demands absolute singers. The smile of the singer on the photo in the shaking light and shadow is the distance from the miracle that the singer vaguely sees when she is in harmony with her lover. Don't you see her indifferent expression when she looks at herself? This is a challenge to God and a cowardly demonstration against God. God will not forgive all this. So, when the singer tried to climb to the heights again, the frustration towards the heights came. She sank into darkness forever.
It is unfortunate to be chosen by God. But when we escape from God, we find that we can never escape ourselves. This is a coincidence problem. Let's take a good look. Well, the music teacher she cried. Why did she cry, she was with someone who could summon her soul, why did she cry, so sad, so painful. Let me try to answer it, albeit risky. What is the soul? The soul is clearly something on the heights. Once people feel it, they will care for it infinitely, or the soul has a kind of traction. It's like a temptation from God. That's why the music teacher was pulled, from the sad puppet dancer to the puppet leader who knew this kind of sadness. The music teacher and the puppet-leader entered into the same grief, and they saw each other's souls. However, the soul is something that lives on high, and people can never catch it, only follow it. The subtle encounter between soul and soul, the warm touch between soul and soul, is temporary. People suffer for their own souls, whom they care for. This is an inescapable pain. As long as you have found your soul, you must suffer. In addition to pain, it is pain. Of course, there is the respite of useless love, the back of family affection.
Once a man has discovered his soul, he cannot settle for a mere human life. The existence of the soul makes people have a kind of upward and upward secret communication. This secret communication is absolutely self. Absolute self means absolute loneliness, absolute strangeness.
A golden bird
sings on a palm tree, the song has no human meaning
and emotion, this strange voice and
yet this strange is charming. Facing the breath of love and the back of family affection, the music teacher just wants to face a tree. The significance of the tree is that it is unfamiliar to people, it does not understand human language, and at this point, it has the atmosphere of the soul.
It just feels strange now. It just feels unfamiliar. To curse the soul. can not. Because everything has to be blamed on people being too focused on their lives. Focus on every star in the sky, on the delicate fluff on the leaves, on the revelation from above. Yeah, too focused, the soul comes. Listening to the voice, guarding the letter, riding the train, I went to the place where I can see the soul.
... a soul is not a soul,
There is no secret, it is small, and it is utterly
empty: it exists, but our momentary
attention
is only momentary attention. Like the beautiful lights and colors that are about to go away, they sway, float, and go. nothing left.
There is nothing left, only you.
...I hate these metaphors,
I want you.
Witch Tower, Winter 2003
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