P'u

I'm looking for a grandiose ceremony.

Honestly, I'm pretty tired. I can't think of anything to write. I think to myself.. I cannot fathom anything worth writing about!

Stringing language together is making me exhausted- people are forgoing the 'shibui' of words, their clarity, like snow, the sting of cold purities..
Instead they dump all this hot heat in their words, filling those letters with emotions that cannot be contained, cannot be bound to that transience...


Where have my words gone? Where is the lone nightingale that sings through the darkness, calling the sun to warm us with his smile..
Where does that tranquility lie?

One has refused the nature of my soul, has dulled the simplistic gleam with greasy hands... I am no mechanic! I am no engineer! I am a weaver, a singer of heart words and thought songs... In efficiency, there is no art. Risks must be taken. Calculations must be forgone.

Come to me again, tenuous passion. A dancer cannot walk without dancing, a singer cannot talk without singing. Do not deny yourself your truth. The 'P'u'-- naturalness. The state that one returns to.