#intuitions

I discovered that I need to not know what I’m thinking — if I become conscious of what I’m thinking, I can no longer think, I can only see myself think. When I say “think” I’m referring to the way I dream words. But thought needs to be a feeling. I now know how to think of nothing. It was a conquest. Not thinking means the inexpressible contact with the Nothing.

I still want to confide to you the secret of my happiness. I am the fool and I love with a universal love. Your unhappiness comes from the fact that you still do not love fully. You are weak and all weakness requires love. I'm afraid moreover that even when you love you ask for reasons why you love." And the fool was right. I would have preferred him to be wrong. He was looking at me and in his eyes I saw the flash of universal love. He loved everything. He accepted everything. He loved me at that moment. I closed my eyes in order not to know that universal love in my turn, no matter how little I might know it. I did not want to burn and I stayed very much alone in my room, holding on to my weakness and the voluptuous enjoyment of my weakness as my only consolation.

🌙 If you found this post, it’s not random.

The body's confession

"𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞.”

I'm disappointed in not finding in Kant's family tree of basic concepts the category "almost," a category that has surely accomplished, and spoiled, as much in the world and in literature as any other. In the mind of natural skeptics it colors all other concepts and intuitions.

I believe in intuitions and inspirations. I sometimes feel that I am right. I do not know that I am.