Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Or as an Exquisite Violin

I dreamed there are no real things. Looking at a thing, you realize it is actually not one whole thing, but a collection of smaller appearing things. A collection of aggregates. Looking at the smaller things, each one, you will see in every case, any smaller things is a collection of things. In investigating, you will never arrive at any one thing. You will only find more aggregates. Ego decides you have a foot, this wall is solid, and we had lunch together yesterday. But if you really try to find foot, wall, or lunch yesterday, they are not there. Your mind says they are locatable, and this is nonsense, but they still are not there.

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I dreamed, I heard a voice, quite clearly. It said a few things.

"There are some questions that have no answers."

"There are some answers that have no questions."

The voice repeated these lines a few times, without the slightest bit of concern, nor irony, sounding a bit like clear running water, or as an exquisite violin.

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