Keats on a wednesday.

Does the Universe ever speak ?


Where is the universe? That we could turn that way in order to hear.

How to treat the fluctuation then?  How do we ever know where the universe is and also be happy enough to be there, to hear it speak, to hear it sing, in a dialect we are happy enough to perceive ?

I think the universe lies asleep in the long wire of my wifi.

Does wifi even wire ?

Has to. There has to be a wire from the initial point. From then on, telepathy.  

How do we live long enough, live long, in context of the designs of the questions we make to ask whether to find the wire or the initial point ?

There IS a wire. It leads to the point, if at all there is a connection. If somebody owns the House.

Will i ever live in the House and know that I am living in the House ? The moment I try to locate my House, i have to go anywhere and everywhere outside of it. What nomad does that make me ?

Your house is, in crass language, a prototype of the Ownership. I don’t think you are ever out of your house, because you have never been There. I think there is one way to be a tenant in the House. A nomad does not live in his head. The only way to get close to the path is to explore the ends of your sense-life; which is only possible by FEELING too much, feeling till it hurts and you numb. The end of sensation is from where a nomad begins belonging.

It’s like a portal opening when you are in flow. Numbness comes easy when you are in flow.

Is a nomad always a nomad, because that makes him a nomad and that will never cease to not make him one. If i go out and journey the World and i love the World and it teaches me everything and it is all that i will ever see and it is all that i will ever be; how does that guarantee that while i traverse across the rivers and poems that i will not be nomad in my head, always wandering and meandering and ceasing to be a nomad in my realm of rivers and poems, because as you see, i will always cease to be nomad and be it at the same time. How do i ever cut this cord of delusion, this sense of nomad, from me, from my race ?

It is not an endless cycle. I think when we talk about being Explorers that never settle down, and that do not live in their heads, we are trying to do something similar to meditation. We are trying to subject ourselves to a medium, a portal, where the body is numbed by too much head. We will always be nomads in the head, but ..but the misfortune of our race is that the head is not directly accessible. Because probably it does not really belong to us.

Read Siddhartha. Herman Hesse. By the way, a little Wordsworth shit – makes for good trigger.

That blessed mood,

In which the burthen of the mystery,

  In which the heavy and the weary weight

  Of all this unintelligible world,

  Is lightened:—that serene and blessed mood,

  In which the affections gently lead us on,—

  Until, the breath of this corporeal frame

  And even the motion of our human blood

  Almost suspended, we are laid asleep

  In body, and become a living soul:

  While with an eye made quiet by the power

  Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,

  We see into the life of things.”

  Do you want to see into the life of things?

  Does he now ?

   Siddhartha’s father allowed him to leave because, in a sense, Siddhartha had “already left”?

Yes. By the way, “I was surprised, as always, by how easy the act of leaving was, and how good it felt. The world was suddenly rich with possibility.”

Jack Kerouac, On the Road.

Sidhartha had left for possibilities he knew existed. The root word for “vocation” is “calling”. Gets us back to the place from where the Universe is speaking to us. Calling us.

Does that mean that when Siddhartha left, he knew that the Universe was ready, to speak to him, to sing for him ?

Yes. Exactly how Srimaa heard India “calling” her.

Universe is here. Hi.

Is that the point, to wait for the call, to live in my House.

To believe that you are living your calling. That the calling does not begin at a point in your life. Everything adds up, baby.  

That is a terrorizing life. What when everything does not add up  ?

Cannot be. The House is not dumb. I am no resident, but I cannot help but feel it in my bones. That this is the truth. That everything adds up. Since it all began. The butterfly effect? Since the initial point, YOU have been a result of additions. Not to mention, amplifications. But they are only clever highlights to hide the intelligence in modesty.

Maybe that is true, may be that is all not false. I might be a result of additions, a sum of all things me, but what is my House and what nomad am I when i stop asking the question, when i stop trying to make sense?

I do not want to die the next second.

Oh, baby, but you ARE DYING every moment now.

Why then am i so afraid to let go? If you are ready to go, ready to places to trek and from there, go to some other places to trek, why am i afraid to not complete the trek ?

Why do i keep losing who i am and seek again, does this loop not harm my cognitive sanity. Dying every moment is a blissful rhetoric. We do not die every moment. Do we ?

Of course we do. Where do you think you are going? You are living to die.

That is not to say that there is absolutely no purpose to live. The point is to realize the limit of death while we still live. I guess that’s the only way to trace the wire. To where it begins.

Death is just an inevitable truth, that’s it. I don’t see it as anything more than one thing. ‘Tis an entity which brings urgency and meaning to life. If people really took death seriously, as they say they do, they would really make their life worthful and lessen the regrets in whatsoever way possible. We don’t live to die. That’s Nietzsche speaking. I don’t know how to see it as, but I, personally, would not prefer defining life’s purpose like that.

The centre of the flux IS death. Because, as you said, it is “inevitable”. And so is life. Why? Why do we have no say? Is it not to adopt ourselves to Nietzsche’s pessimism(though that is some insanity that opens doors), but to realize that these are the only portals available to us IN LIFE, from the Unknown, that we can question. As to exactly why are life and death inevitable? Death helps answering most questions(because all questions lead to one, after all).

Is it all, death, as a stationary point in life, which makes us live?  If if is inevitable and we live in this sphere where it seemingly looks evitable, how does this make us one complete being, devoid of the duality, devoid of all questions which do not make sense and answers that demand them?

Because death is the only aspect of life that is devoid of dualities. That is the only point you can be completely One.

Is it devoid really? You never actually die.


Although I am a big fan of ‘why’, I must state, the essence of asking the right questions in the right situations, is that you get a definitive answer, if that’s what you want.  

Let’s not make it tough for ourselves and the world.

Just tell me one way to not do that . And we are not even overthinking. We are just critically questioning if the Universe speaks, so as to say ?

Yes it does speak. It speaks only if you make an effort to listen. I don’t think you can listen to another person if you keep talking.

What if one does pay attention to the fellow person, is that all; are we not bounded by the items of reason which we pursue.

We are, we are. We are colourful artists with colourful palettes, trying to draw questions. When we draw the wires, the House tells us we are not the artists. Is this the art, will this be the voice that speaks to the Universe, we know not of the song which does it, we know not of the voices which does it. The tune to the song lies in the abrasive demand of courage, strength which makes you happy enough to be hold on to the unhappiness for the seconds when you will not hear the Universe speaking.


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