Just when you thought that the brick wall has hardened and has become impervious from a tiny prick, you discover that the brick is a mere cardboard, revealing a hollow interior from where all the strong emotions emanate. Then, an unforeseen blow maims you.
There’s no place I’d rather be than the office—the mundane routines, the inanities of call-taking, the shallow conversations, the dullness of the computer screen. It’s the most comfortable blanket that I could find.
Aging with restlessness
I was fooled by my years
Nothing comes after the waiting
Waiting is all there is.
“How dare you accuse your father?”
Jesus said with contempt
I could still taste his spit
It was cold and sweet.
I turned to the man next to me
“Sir, how come I have nothing on me? Where am I?”
His eyes with the
Nothing is ever that good.
When the heart accepts that, one is truly happy. Grateful, even.
Reminds me of Descartes: We can only approach the state of perfection. And never, ever reach it.
Hence, once can only go as far as happily verging upon.
We can only verge upon.
Nothing more.
- from Cat's Cradle
And I remembered The Fourteenth Book of Bokonon, which I had read in its entirety the night before. The Fourteenth Book is entitled, "What Can a Thoughtful Man Hope for Mankind on Earth, Given the Experience of the Past Million Years?"
It doesn't take long to read The Fourteenth Book. It consists of one word and a period.
This is it:
"Nothing."