“A goal stood before Siddhartha, a single goal: to become empty, empty of thirst, empty of wishing, empty of dreams, empty of joy and sorrow. Dead to himself, not to be a self any more, to find tranquility with an emptied heard, to be open to miracles in unselfish thoughts, that was his goal.”
(Source: Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse)
“Empty?”, I thought while the familiar voices of the latest reality-show superstars were reaching from the neighboring room. Scars covered with powder and silicone breasts springing from a deep décolleté like the pears from a knitted basket. So many words said aloud and yet said nothing.
“What is emptiness?”, I asked myself aloud.
I turned off the lights and closed my eyes. Soothing tones through the eairphones dirfts me away. There, where nothing exist. There, where only in Emptiness you can meet yourself. There, where I give birth to all my miracles.
bends the branches
~ stream of life
river keeps flowing