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Powderbum75 @powderbum75.bsky.social

But just as often, if not more often, the interruption comes not from another but from the self itself, or some other self within the self, that whistles and pounds upon the door panels and tosses it-self, splashing, into the pond of meditation. And what does it have to say? That you must phone the dentist, that you are out of mus-tard, that your uncle Stanley's birthday is two weeks hence. You react, of course. Then you return to your work, only to find that the imps of idea have fled back into the mist. It is this internal force-this intimate interrupter-whose tracks I would follow. The world sheds, in the energetic way of an open and communal place, its many greetings, as a world should. What quarrel can there be with that? But that the self can interrupt the self— and does—is a darker and more curious matter.
aug 31, 2025, 1:43 am • 0 0

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