The more I think about it, the more false it seems. So that everything I thought is built on an illusion.
I wonder if you can only let go of something only when you have grasp on something else, no matter how fictitious that replacement may be.
I really wish my hands could just be empty for a while, and not wrap greedily around some new desire as the old one slips away.
What is this illusory person doing for us? Does he simply stand for some sort of security, giving us an idea to hold on to?
The thing is, I don't want to look forward, I just want to stand still. At this infinitesimally small point, squeezed into a blot in time, where the past and future are nonexistent, and stay here for a while.
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