There exists a temperature, so cold that everything becomes a crystal, nothing moves. Everything is reduced to its essence, and the essence is a thing of such profound beauty, but also such fragility, that any look, any touch, any breath is enough to destroy it. The temperature will rise and everything becomes unclear, shakes violently through life.
The truth is calm, cold. The truth is not a place we live in. It is an idea we have to remember sometimes, not to become to chaotic. But the truth itself, though perfectly peaceful and calm and beautiful, is not a state we humans can endure for long. We need contact, we need touch, we need to bump into eachother...
Only in this non pure state are we able to see eachother, only there can we really meet eachother. Less beautiful, less pure then we could be, but the only way we can see eachother without destroying eachother forever.
We need to know that the truth exist, so that we may seek it, so that we may reach the pure state again and start over if we have been too bumped and scratched. But we don't stay there. It's pretty lonely there.
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