Often I take shelter from my own sensations and inclinations
And then they vary and are in accord with those of others
But I do not feel them and also I do not know that I am fooling myself

Feeling poetry is the supposed way for one to live
I do not feel poetry not because I do not know what it is
But because I cannot live supposedly
And if I managed it I would have to follow another way of conditioning myself
The condition of poetry is not to know how it is one senses it
There are beautiful things that are beautiful in themselves
But the inner beauty of feelings mirrors itself in things
And if they are beautiful we do not feel them

In the sequence of steps I cannot see more than the sequence of steps
And they follow as if I saw them really following each other
By the fact of them being so equal to each other
And since there is no sequence of steps that is not
I see no need to illude ourselves about the clear meaning of things
Otherwise we would have to believe that an inanimate body feels and sees differently from us
And by being too admissible this notion would be uncomfortable and futile

If we are able to cease movement and speech when we think
Is it necessary to suppose that things do not think
If this manner of seeing them is incoherent and easy on the wit?
We ought to suppose and this is the true way
That we think by the fact of our being able to do so without moving or speaking
As do inanimate things

When I feel isolated the need to be any person arises
And eddies around me in oscillating spirals
This way of saying is not figurative
And I know that it eddies around me like a moth around a light
In it I see symptoms of weariness and am horrified when I think it will fall
But as this never quite succeeds, it happens at times when I am isolated

There are those who are affected by scratchings on the walls
And others who are not affected
But scratchings on walls are always the same
And the difference comes from the persons. But if there is a difference within this sensing
There will have to be personal difference in the sensing of other things
And when all think the same of a thing it is because it is different for each one

Memory is the faculty by which we know that we must live
And therefore amnesiacs cannot know that they live
But like me they are unhappy and I know that I am living and that I must live
An object that is attained, a fear one has
Are all manners of being alive for others
I would like to live or to be within myself as spaces are or live

 

 

 

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