Language is just as much an instrument for seeing as eyes are.
Look at things – and you will see the world.
Look for things – and all you will see is the inside of your head.
Sometimes, in the middle of the day on a country road,
the essential strangeness of the world
staggers you.
What is it that makes us human?
Is it soul,
technology,
the use of handkerchiefs
or two types of forks?
I think it is language, for it gives us empathy;
the ability to see through other’s eyes
and hence the ability to see something truly new.
Look through the eyes of an artist – it will give you the joy of creating a world.
Look through the eyes of history – it will give you the desire for changing the world.
Look through the eyes of a child – it will give you a reason for changing yourself.
A turning point is just a point:
you can turn and go back,
you can confront it and stand there until you drop,
you can go in a spiral – under or over…
there are always choices
and the number of them depends on your imagination
and on how much you are willing to change…
I prefer to lie in the grass,
looking up at passing clouds,
waiting for the turning point of the season to come to me…
and it will.
Leaves fall and wither,
ladybirds go to sleep,
walls crumble
and doors dissolve into the background,
like tissue paper…
there is no point in grabbing an illusion –
you will just dig your nails into the palms of your hands
until they bleed
and pain finally overcomes your desperate attempt at self-deception…
and you are left with bleeding palms –
not much one can do with wounded hands…
much better to open your hand waving good-bye.
Count them:
cigarettes, barefoot footprints in the sand, days, minutes, seconds…
counting obviates the need to experience,
what’s counted is in the past, what will come is in the future…
there is no need for the sense of loss in the present,
for it can be eternally postponed, like seeing the very last footprint…
