Life Lesson (Leçon de vie)

Before all else, man should know what to look at.

The unawakened usually say they have a goal

and a direction in life.

When a person realizes

he has no goal and is going nowhere,

it's a sign that awakening has really become possible.

Awakening begins when one realizes

that one is going nowhere and has no direction to take.

STORIES OF LIFE

LIFE LESSONS

But

the azure

laughing

on

The hedge

and the awakening

of so many

birds in flower

chirping

in the sun.

There is something,

I'm not mad.

However desirable it may be to know ourselves,

perhaps we know better what is not ourselves.

Nature gives us organs solely for our preservation

but we use them to receive external impressions,

seeking only to spread ourselves around

and to exist outside of ourselves;

too busy multiplying the functions of our senses

and augmenting the external scope of our being.

We rarely make use of that inner sense

that brings us back to our true dimensions.

MADMEN IN LITERATURE

Eroticism... The Female Sex...

In the beginning God created heaven and earth...

And God said, Let us make man in our image

and in our likeness...

One apple plus one apple equals two apples.

But one chair plus one chair also makes two:

two chairs.

It matters little whether it's an apple or a chair,

mathematics tells us that 1 + 1 = 2.

Using this science,

some count their apples and others their chairs.

And since everyone could count their money,

no one wondered

what's the purpose of learning to count?

Walk

where

the water

ceases

to

Flow...

... and so on in this asylum arrive and stay

resonate like it or not dotting the I's

resonate and resonate the chance in her

she harassing terribly devastating

leading on joyful breathing broken

if not even spread out necessarily arms cross

on wood mattress or jacket thrown equal

but always at arms body of obstinate desire slaps thighs

according to the dull advance fast very fast

much faster than this order dictated aloud

precisely obscene that one

singular thrown in the machinery

saliva spent when the sun shines in my belly

stuffed with commonplaces swellings hollows holes

not necessarily sweating oozing humid dark

or not

but admittedly landscapes fainting

what we've tasted seen felt touched

not tasted not touched

what we'd have wanted forbidden not forbidden

and that mad with love as we are despite the lack

just as we are thrown in panic where we

can never mourn our loss in her harassing dazzling

calling him harassed terribly devastating

leading on joyful breathing broken

strong-backed with all the aces in her hand

the red rag waved at the barrier of her teeth

heart hardened from not staying in her skin lurching

submerged swallowed up worn out by graces granted

damaged in its unnameable burning embrace

where death is clearer charming black manner

last gift in time of peace

light years away from the cold outside

and so on going remembering fervent

its harassing immensity

leading on joyful breathing broken

running throw oneself on its end

like at a dinner to shit all over anniversary night

yes of course scenes her tiring frankness

angry stormy

blows received kneeling in ruins and rubble crossed

and so on ungraspable offered to all you want

turn her return her love her hate her just the same

by waist or finger-tips impatient under the clock

name her own or all stunned from the boat

boasts to have understood her up to the stars

that one hides or bawls curse her in her century

we are in her fate possessed stupefied

eternally her lovers torn and harnessed race the post

and so on my face to the scandal mixed up

this rotten butcher's meat prices make no sense

you can take me crumpled not know how to do it

even with the right hand joints at the wedding

walking to and fro foolish hobby

tracking from harassing terribly devastating

her refrain stays her couplets gone

and so on harassing questioning me endlessly

what desperately ignores third or fourth part of man

challenges and then crushes him

one could see fainting bending over what?

Ocean? Storm? Silence?

What? Am I worthy of such an audience?

The spy playing his part to the bitter end

so I bawl after in the gap

like the breathless idiot drumming intractable

with neither braces nor belt

mocking the society dancer in love lost

as I knew how to be.

We'll see the biggest fagne or mossy upland, here

called the Grande Fagne du Plateau de Tailles,

which covers some 300 acres.

The most impressive fagne in my region,

the Baraque Fraiture, our second highest peak

all round the Baraque,

in every direction are tracts of fagne,

near the peak, here,

situated in deep hollows

with gentle gradients compared to the peak.

It has some botanical features

due to periglacial phenomena

from the first glaciations

to affect Belgium and its climate.

Not bad, Jacques. Very good!

Here's the autobiography

of the great calligrapher

who for me is the greatest. He lived in the 8th century.

The text reads:

I, Huai Su,

from the town of Changsa,

since early childhood,

have studied Buddhism.

Any time left after studying the sutras,

I devote to calligraphy.

My only regret

is not being able to travel far

and admire the relics left behind

by our great predecessors.

I understand that.

- Do you understand that? - What's she say?

She's asking you

if you want her to come and meet you in Moscow.

No, I don't.

Anyway, she says phone when you get there

and she says who you'll be staying with in Moscow.

I'll call her

when I get there.

She's got something to ask you...

Take coffee filters and paper napkins.

They must be short of them in Novosibirsk.

Warm clothes,

boots,

and a warm coat

but she also says take light shoes

to go to people's places.

You can't wear boots indoors.

You know that word?

Your swimsuit.

A swimsuit?

Oh yes, for the seaside. But where's that in Siberia?

No, there's no sea there, she means Lake Baikal.

We'll have to look at an atlas.

Have you got one?

Yes, let's look in the atlas!

You land in Moscow.

Then I get the train,

the Trans-Siberian.

You cross the Urals.

I'm leaving soon and don't even know where I'm going.

You get to Novosibirsk

and then take another train,

there, I think,

to Irkutsk

there you're at Lake Baikal.

Is there a larger scale map?

Here you're in Moscow.

You cross all that

you keep going

further, further...

Novosibirsk, there you are!

What's all this here? Forest, or plain?

Forest, of course, taiga.

And then you're here, and then Irkutsk.

Your Lake Baikal!

And then I'd like to find the River Amour!

Dear sisters,

dear brothers,

to all