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Life is too short for boring stories

I would like to meet you, yes, but not in the hustle and bustle of the day, where you switch back and forth with your thoughts, where you cannot stay because actionism has got you in the claws and you cannot get by, if only a few minutes physically, but not mentally. You think of everything that you have already done, of everything that you still have to do, and not of your being here. It’s okay like that. These days belong to the hustle and bustle. It is the time of deeds, not of words, but I don’t want to meet you there.

I would like to meet you, yes, but not in a room that you or I choose, that predefines you or me, because the judgment is made quickly. I infer you from the space you prefer, from the people who are there. Just like you do with me. Just as we divide up according to occupation, without really knowing, according to the premises, without a real clue, so according to the others on ourselves. What if we only use these premises because they are conveniently located or because you are right there can remain to himself, even among many people? I don’t want to fall for the thoughts that arise automatically, don’t want to give you an opportunity to allow them to happen. It is not the space, but the essence, that’s why I don’t want to meet you like that.

I would like to meet you, yes, but not in the light of day, because I assess you, your posture, your clothes, your hairstyle, just as you do me. Maybe all of this is an expression of your being, but it doesn’t have to be that way. It happens unnoticed and unconsciously, and yet, it happens because we are all pre-imagined by categorization and delusions of classification. Perhaps you have just adjusted to the specifications that came before or that came after, but it has nothing to do with you. All of this is unknown to me, and yet I decide about you whether I want it or not, but that’s not how I want to meet you.

I would like to meet you, away from the hustle and bustle, in which you escape me again and again into something else, into which I cannot follow you and which you do not reveal to me, away from the hustle and bustle and the actionist loneliness in a silence that gives us brings us to us and enables us to come together.

I would like to meet you in the vastness of indeterminacy, unformed and natural. In the middle of a forest, on a meadow, by a lake, wherever our steps lead us, where our thoughts are also wide and still unfilled, because the space should be for you, for understanding what you think of yourself want to give to understand, nothing beyond that.

I would like to meet you at the time of the transition from day to night, at the time of indeterminacy and indeterminability, to show you that I do not want to determine you, not on my own initiative, that I recognize your indefiniteness, so that freedom , space and time make it possible that I do not encounter my own pre-formed thoughts about you, pre-conceived judgments or my own classifications, but just you.

I want to meet you, nothing more, just you.

You arrive with light luggage.

Just you.

I want you to meet me, nothing more, just me.

I arrive with light luggage.

Just me.

Maybe we will find an understanding. In a togetherness. Nobody can know how an encounter will develop. But we can make it an encounter.

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