It is that time again, to give the master a visit. Drained by the drag of this swamp, starving for the holy company I must return once again to that blessed deathbed, so that I may sneak through the sliding door, and the clashing rocks, and re-emerge in the field where I am no more. … More It is that time again …
Is it a gift or a curse, self-awareness! The endless expanse of this Self is at times terrible and frightening to look at. At times I cannot take up its infinitude. I am more comfortable when the Self breastfeeds me the mundane, and I am more at ease when placed among the herd and in … More The Taxidermist
The more absent I am as a construct, the more present I become as a living reality, elusive is my true face and yet I am everywhere. The man seeking the truth is the very thing that is concealing the truth. This man stands to truth as a note stands to the silence from which … More Die Before You Die
The question “Where am I?” is probably one of the seven wonders of the intellectual life of mankind. This question is almost always addressed from the outside, beginning from what precedes us and continuing with what follows us. This approach, which starts with presupposing man’s fundamental situated-ness and then tries to elucidate the nature of … More No Place but Here, no Time but Now
The fact that the human intellect can recognize in the cosmos two distinct essences, the subject and the object, the being principle and the knowing principle, tells me that this intellect must itself transcend both of these principles. We cannot see something unless we are in some sense apart from it. The ground of human … More I see; therefore you are
It is hidden by its omnipresence and obviousness. It is sought by all but found by none: It is there at all times; it is the act of looking for It that conceals Its reality. It is a jokester: It is veiled by Its unveiling; It hides Itself by showing Itself. There is no veil … More Hidden by Obviousness
Speech holds the Real; it is the light that illumines the sight; it is the flute that animates the shadows and brings them forth and out of the primordial obscurity. What’s found in the depths must be rescued and exposed by the ever ascending rope of speech. Oh, silence! Truth is so vast that it … More The Divine Murmur
I wear a mask made of nothing, you don’t see it on my face but I feel it all the time. The story has it that I am hideous, but god knows who has that story! I wove the mask I wear with the labor of time; it is a conglomeration of conflicting stories teamed … More The Play of Masks
Logos is a threat to the intrinsic ambiguity of existence; it fragments an existence already shredded by time. Logos is the form-giving principle, and I despise form; but the lower soul despises form too, for it is only in moral and existential ambiguity of my Being that it gets to wallow in the filth of … More For the Love of Shadows
Cosmos is the twilight zone between the light of god and the darkness of nothingness; in it things are constantly passing away, from light to darkness, from birth to death. Don’t mind your death; all things pass but the passing stays, and you are that passing itself. You are not a thing, not a human, … More The Twilight Zone
NOEMAYA 