It’s like we’re all walking on an old swaying wooden bridge in the world. If we can’t find anything to hold on to, we roll over. And we continue to fight with ourselves while looking for a subject, thing, person, ideology to which we can connect. Centuries have not changed its ordinary style in human psychology. One day we will realize that the only thing we can hold on to in the world is love. Until that happens, we will integrate with things. We will greet the insects. We will mix colors. And we will become alienated from those closest to us. We’ll get lost in untidy dirty walls. After a while, the days become the same as the other days. Then hours are like days. Let’s Think Now. Are our emotions a closet that we can open into the dark and show? Or how are we different from an insect trying to escape between things?
