For some moments, before typing
I stood still, silent
Because I don't know what to write.

How much dirt is in there in my heart? I am aware of its existence, but
Unable to uproot it.

How much foolishness and shrewdness is needed in life
To walk the path which is in the middle?
To not be too detached, and neither be completely attached.

Am I balanced? Who is there to answer me?
Because, I cannot answer myself.

Or, do all the answers that I wished for,
Or, at least, most of them, some of them,
Are already here?

But, why, can I not enjoy knowing them?

Why, cannot I feel the sadness, happiness?

Why, cannot I go deeper, be mad?

Why, am I so mundane?

Don't get caught in the web of desires so much that it turns to obsession. Keep it simple