Life as a thing that’s there, unavoidable and
miraculous—I mean, if anything is possible…
I wonder what we’re doing
that lets this happen? I don’t know—
it’s all scary answers. There’s only me I can contemplate
so that’s what I think about.
Maybe that’s the answer and the question.
Hate
is ignorance. It’s ignorance of oneself.
You just don’t know it yet.
Not knowing is fear. Now life:
is a place I live and work, so are things;
and so are people.
All of this is natural. Natural.
The only difference between a person who hates and
a person who loves is this:
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