Jack Kerouac writing 60 years ago. The wisdom surely is eternal: We were never really born, we will never really die. It has nothing to do with the imaginary idea of a personal self, other selfs, many selves everywhere: Self is only an idea, a mortal idea.... There's nothing to be afraid of and nothing to be glad about. Close your eyes, let your hands and nerve-ends drop, stop breathing for 3 seconds, listen to the silence inside the illusion of the world, and you will remember the lesson you forgot, which was taught in an immense milky way soft cloud innumerable worlds long ago and not even at all. It is all one vast awakened thing. I call it the golden eternity. It is perfect...

Jack Kerouac writing 60 years ago. The wisdom surely is eternal:

We were never really born, we will never really die. It has nothing to do with the imaginary idea of a personal self, other selfs, many selves everywhere: Self is only an idea, a mortal idea.... There's nothing to be afraid of and nothing to be glad about.

Close your eyes, let your hands and nerve-ends drop, stop breathing for 3 seconds, listen to the silence inside the illusion of the world, and you will remember the lesson you forgot, which was taught in an immense milky way soft cloud innumerable worlds long ago and not even at all.

It is all one vast awakened thing. I call it the golden eternity. It is perfect...