Waiting for words. I have been reading how the Vedic people in India realized they needed nothing but words and fire. For the moment it feels as though I have neither. They would carry out an elaborate daily sacrifice and that was all. They left no trace but their words: no temples, no architecture, no infrastructure. They trod lightly upon this delicate Earth.
And they were almost right. Ultimately – whatever we do – there is nothing left, not even words. They morph, distort, become something altogether different, and then as their relevance is lost they fade into obscurity. It is all a flash of consciousness, only some flashes appear longer than others.
I was also reading how every proof requires an axiom. It is impossible to prove all of anything: the central point of any proof is the axiom, and the axiom cannot be proved. It is the nature of an axiom.
So the entire universe we live in rests upon the axiom that it is real. Where is the proof? Every proof of reality you attempt to show me relies upon the axiom that it was already real. Circular argument.
So where does that leave us?