When it comes to describe emptiness- description must be possible.
Description in every case, in minute detail, though madness may result.
Whether true or not, no matter how distorted it may become. Following the trail till the trail ends.
Integrity of self as a basis on which to rely. Completely honest, completely subjective, devoid of anything that seems like compromise. What may result may be unreadable, incomprehensible;
baroque, twisting dissections of agony. And yet it is truth. And it is human. Therefore it has a kind of worth.
To go so much farther on this tack, than anyone, ever. System of thought as arbitrary, thought as it is.
And i experience something like relief, but i know how false, shallow, brief it is.
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