TTK No. 47
Looking through the keyhole at my tiny experience, I see the snow of yesterday; some of it remains today on the ground. I could write a loose metaphor of that, how the past moves with us, but honestly when I read similar statements from others, I am bored by them, and when they say such things, I question whether they know anything at all. I aspire to be direct and simple. And when I describe flowers, may my remarks not reflect my own self-centered ego, but shine a direct and clear light upon them. I am tired of I. I wish to say to the world how the world is, which seems a more beautiful way, or at least, a more sincere and authentic way.