I am sitting here in front of the computer. Nothing specific comes to my mind. I do not know what to write; I
thought of closing it down and go and sleep. Then I thought of writing on nothing. After all we are living for nothing. There is no purpose whatsoever. Life is simply the bubbling and bursting of an energy bubble in the ocean of the infinite energy. O! it is the flicker of ray in the eternal darkness.
Our life itself is nothingness.
Why should I write or why shouldn’t I? Why should I live or why shouldn’t I? It is all the same. After a hundred years, there is no me. There is no writing left, Whatever I have done would be forgotten by me and the world. . There will be no more thought and no more wistful thinking.
There will be no more desire and no more consciousness.
I am living on this illusion, this mirage of a life.
Well if there was no mirage, no illusion! There would be the eternal reality: darkness. That is anyway going to be the reality any way for ever. Then why this flash of a ray? Why this thought for a moment?
Let the reality prevail and the illusion recede.