I hate yoga so much. Like, if yoga was a person, I’d stab them.
Truth is not an imperative, but something that must be discovered. Unlike liquid opinion, truth does not always circulate. It is that which you experience, deeply, and cannot forget. The right to not care is the right to sit still, to not talk, to be subject to unclarity and allow knowledge to come unbidden to you. To be in a constant state of rage, by contrast, is only the other side of piety and pseudoscience, the kind of belief that forms a quick chorus and cannot be disproved.
There are a lot of old words that we use in English whose meaning is from medieval times and the actual meaning of the word is a lot more horrific, in a way. We use the word “shambles,” which means a mess. But it actually means the streets of butchers and slaughterhouses.
At the Bird Market
There is no deceiving the bird-fancier. He sees and
understands his bird from a distance. “There is no relying on
that bird,” a fancier will say,
looking into a siskin’s beak, and counting the feathers
on its tail. “He sings now, it’s true, but what
of that? I sing in company too. No, my boy, shout, sing
to me without company; sing in solitude, if
you can… . Give me
the quiet one!”
"The Bird Market"