I don’t like the old
I like the new
To be old is to cease changing is to be dead
That’s the true meaning of being old
It’s to close one’s mind
Is to close oneself from life
Conversely
does it worry me, the passing of time?
does it worry me, getting old?
it doesn’t
really, I don’t get old
there’s nothing getting old about me
I know you worry about getting old
Please don’t
Whatsoever passes — leaves room for the emergence of the new
I want you to let die of your “youth”
So that you can stay truly young
Young in the spirit and mind
Youthful in energy and innocence
For that you must let go of your attachment to being a certain way
…being young and strong and beautiful
I like beautiful
I like strong
but the reality is that of a constant flux
constant transformation
you could call it “impermanence”, call it annica
i call it evolution, transformation, transmutation
there is nothing ever lost
there is only change
I like beautiful
beauty manifests in you then transcends you
youthful energy manifests in you, then expands
let this unravelling emerge, without resistance
it’s beautiful
if you only see
truly see
the whole
the notion of SOMETHING BEING a certain way, it will occur to you as so ludicrously fragmentary and insignificant
how could beauty end?
how could energy end?
how could the ever-changing unravelling cease?
how could that river stop?
it’s impossible
don’t worry about getting old