#908 Untitled

In a similar sort of way,
I promenade my conscious unconsciousness along my tree branch of the usual.

Where is God,
even if he doesn't exist? I want to pray and to weep,
to repent of crimes I didn't commit,
to enjoy the feeling of forgiveness like a caress that's more than maternal.

The supreme empire belongs to the emperor who
abdicates from all normal life and from other men
for the preservation of his supremacy won't weigh on him like a load of jewels.

What can China give me that my soul hasn't already
given me? And if my soul can't give it to me
how will China give it to me? For it's with my soul that I'll see China,
if I ever see it.

Against my will so that I can write that I felt it.

I don't dream of possessing you.

Ships passing in the night that neither signal nor recognize each other.

I immediately stood up,
closed the ledger and put it away.

For I've so triumphed over my dreams that
they always unexpectedly bring me what I want.

—Pêro Botelho, Princípios de Metaphysica Esotérica