A colorful being came to my house with his inseparable "doubles" and, in his moment of freedom, reminded me what love and the rag have to do with each other. This is what he said: all the resources, all the blood, all the life, is not being given to a few, it is being given to the thoughts of a few, because only in thought can they encompass it. It is impossible to take material charge of the entire volume of what has been looted. They could never touch, see, spend, enjoy, or whatever, such a volume of 'goods', not even the list of them. Therefore, all this looting is only, I insist, to satisfy some thoughts.
Very crazy stuff, be amazed! Very, very crazy. How a group of small thoughts taking over a few people suck up an entire planet. More or less like this: they transform a majestic amount of natural 'goods' produced over millions of years - rivers, forests, seas, species, humans, minerals, air, etc., etc. - into a few 'artificial' goods and, above all, most amazingly, into bank data.
Listen? Bank data. 0101010100001010101010101010? "zeros and ones" written in computers, so that if they definitively ended life or, at least, almost all life and with us, an alien who came to report would only have to evaluate the destroyed and contrast it with the numbers of that central computer, and scratching his little horn it would be difficult for him to understand, no matter how evolved he was, what happened to change all the life of a planet for 'zeros and ones' recorded in a computer.
We always leave recordings. I touch ancient engravings in stone to feel the immensity of the pain of the debacle; he 'would touch' engravings on discs and feel the same. Do you think that group of thoughts will suffer any consequences? Can you kill them, imprison them, 'psychiatrize' them? Do we know how to do anything else with what we don't like? You can, then, see your own thoughts and how they swallow. How, through the emotions they manage, they swallow. And how what you swallow fattens so that another swallows it. Have you ever thought about what your thoughts are, where they come from, what difference there is between some and others, which ones could be yours and which ones are not? Why do you intend what others think? Do you really think what you would like to think? Moreover, do you really want to think at all? And when you really want to think, can you think? About what you really want to think?
Well, being free is assuming all this shit, taking responsibility for it, and starting to clean with the rag in hand until everything is bright, illuminated. And how do you know when it is illuminated? Well, when the shit, the real shit, no longer looks like shit. And you feel free. An act of deep honesty. It's no use hiding it; it doesn't work. It is exciting; there is no greater challenge, or game, or presence, or emotional intensity than the desire for freedom. That is the state of love, the rag; the damn rag, give it, give it, is the state of love. And then to think, which is much needed. But free, with the state of love as our flag. Because the only disease we suffer as life that we are, is not that of converting our living cells into dead cells. That is life. The real disease is converting our cells, the living and the dead, into accounting of zeros and ones.
That's what the colorful bird, the inseparable one, the double, told me. And that's what I write.
