
From the bridge that I am crossing I look forwards not realizing that I look back

From the bridge that I am crossing I look forwards not realizing that I look back

We are good in measuring things
but bad in remembering
what we have measured

278 – Wanderer, who are you? I watch you go on your way, without scorn, without love, with impenetrable eyes – damp and downhearted, like a plumb line that returns unsatisfied from every depth back into the light (what was it looking for down there?), with a breast that does not sigh, with lips that hide their disgust,with a hand that only grips slowly:who are you? What have you done? Take a rest here, this spot is hospitable to everyone, – relax! And whoever you may be: what would you like now? What do you find relaxing? Just name it: I’ll give you whatever I have! – “Relaxing? Relaxing? How inquisitive you are! What are you saying! But please, give me – –” What? What? Just say it! – “Another mask! A second mask!” …

If you are lucky you might stand still and look at the world for a long time after your summer

Each part of you tells me how you feel except your mind

Do you remember all the windows
you looked through
in your life?

Maybe my other hand
is not the dirty hand I deal

At night in my dream I glow underwater feeling the world an adventure but all along the morning holds me tight waking me up in a sudden pull I only remember the goodbye

32 The brake.- To suffer for the sake of morality and then to be told that this kind of suffering is founded on an error: this arouses indignation. For there is a unique consolation in affirming through one’s suffering a ‘profounder world of truth’ than any other world is, and one would much rather suffer and thereby feel oneself exalted above reality (through consciousness of having thus approached this ‘profounder world of truth’) than be without suffering but also without this feeling that one is exalted. It is thus pride, and the customary manner in which pride is gratified, which stands in the way of a new understanding of morality. What force, therefore, will have to be employed if this brake is to be removed? More pride? A new pride?

We opened our eyes to the world from where we crashed with clipped wings staring at the chasm we try to scale in vain
Thrownness (German: Geworfenheit) is a concept introduced by German philosopher Martin Heidegger (1889–1976) to describe humans’ individual existences as being ‘thrown’ (geworfen) into the world in the sense of its having been born into a specific family in a particular culture at a given moment of human history. See: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thrownness

Your barbwire handmade wound by wound keeps me out you in a leftover from when the animals grazed on your fields

Sometimes you are pregnant of an idea
and than
a smaller version of you comes out

Life from start to end is complete like a circle with no end or beginning but for us looking at only parts of what we see the sliver that makes sense the blur we somehow embrace that life is a mystery but only because we can say it is

Some people are so focused on the lock that they don’t realize that the door is open

The bars that I see in the shadow though fleeting in the dark have kept me inside for as long as I know I try to grab them like the ones I am holding now but they are not there to grab they are not there and that’s why I can’t brake them

When you hit it wrong but keep on going you will eventually bend the point you were making