SUFFERING DOES NOT DESTROY WHAT MAKES SUFFERING POSSIBLE

Suffering does not destroy what makes suffering possible; life does not do away with the self’s art of illusion. In the space of a life, the shellfish that pass through the cracks in the rock are a hidden, infinitesimal music, which a huge band is now playing, and the people march from the cracks toward a magnificent future. Yes, it is true, light will scatter from the lowliest of places, and all the ugliest of smells are omens of war, but I sit on the rubbish pile singing, singing a song about the marriage of plastic and fire, a song that will sing the recluse underground up to the surface. When he comes to the surface the flowerless fruit will bloom, the shells will offer a path that loops back, and everything once again will descend, repeating until infinity. Just like this, he says, suffering does not destroy what makes suffering possible.