toughts about god

talks about god lead to the the dark tar pit. to the known deep hole where we don't know ourselves anymore.

my insides want to go there, to the divine, to the place above this filthy me. to the place where i do not know, do not know myself. to be different, better.

i embrace those moments, those little, tiny moments, of complicated simplicity, of inevidable joyous sadness, of almost unbareable tenderness, where there is no difference between tears and laughter.

and i want to scream to the world, that i am the king of the hill, that i know the answer, that i have seen it all.

i retreat to the known again, and i find that i want to be wrong, i want to find out what i did not, i want to venture further, almost suicidal.