It is just an individual, without any purpose at all.– Louis Ferdinand Céline
A museum’s bathroom. The walls were black, wooden and gave an enclosed yet breathable feeling thru that. Right before me was a picture, Mapplethorpe’s. Of a pale, bone white man resting his chin against the shoulder of a man of opposite skin colour. And the gaze. I have seen it before. Endless times before.
Walking down into the subway nature of life.
Is life a station?
The wanderer of death ( the wanderer of death is a demon ) strides from station to station, now over a hole; the hole of life. The hole is descending into nothing and on into the very undefinable ( the nothing is the way between two stations, i.e. the stations of definable and undefinable ). What is the process of life? What is life? What is it not?
Is life undefinable?
Life can not be defined. Life is existing, yet we die before ceasing to exist, by different dimensions of death.
Is life nothing?
Living is nothing: but not undefinable. Living hasn’t reached the final station, it’s wandering on the railway in the dark hole of itself. Is the light in the end of the tunnel a train? Can nothing be felt? If you feel nothing you’re feeling something ( one can’t be empty without a matter surrounding the emptiness ). Nothing is only the way. Yet if you are not feeling anything, you’re not even feeling nothing: Are you feeling the undefinable?
Can you feel no thing? Nothing isn’t a non-matter. Is there a non-matter? A non-matter; an undefinable matter.
Yet matter is concentrated. Is there an all consuming undefinability, or an all consuming nothing. Like space.
Is space something?
1. the unlimited or incalculably great three-dimensional realm or expanse in which all material objects are located and all events occur.
Is it three dimensional? Is it enormous; unlimited if we can’t calculate it? How do we even know that it is there: existing; living? Are we the only matter in space? Or are we the emptiness ( of matter ) in space? Space is nothing.
Is life limited?
Life is an empty hole that isn’t a hole because that would make it something; a hole. Life is undefinable, but also nothing. Life is a paradox, life is not a station, nor a way. Life is a process, the process.
Life is life. Space is space. Time is time. Death is death. Depends on how you look at it. So it could be the opposite.
Everything is wandering from station to station.