Actually, the raga I’m thinking of
has true passion in it.
Forget about the other ragas.
has true passion in it.
Forget about the other ragas.
The sense of time I care about
is the organic not the inorganic one
like all the inauthentic ragas I’m not thinking of.
is the organic not the inorganic one
like all the inauthentic ragas I’m not thinking of.
Imagine time endured only by
minerals and hunks of magma—
like all those other ragas, I guess.
minerals and hunks of magma—
like all those other ragas, I guess.
Or think of an Inuit's sense of
snow, so much richer than our limited
notion. The raga I’m thinking of
snow, so much richer than our limited
notion. The raga I’m thinking of
is like the enlightened sense of love—
not our mundane human
loves, forget about those ragas.
—Some hard-to-grok commentsnot our mundane human
loves, forget about those ragas.
smell like hierarchical control:
not letting us know if our poem
is like the raga he's thinking of.
