projections.

is there anything to say about projections?

project something onto something.

what does that mean?

something onto something.

without knowing what something is.

neither one something nor the other.

we know nothing.

we only see when we have projected something onto something.

but we do not know what we have projected, nor onto what.

we see a result, but we cannot fathom what it is.

we see a sum, but do not know from what.

we know nothing.

we tremble.

and what else?

how do we deal with this?

with the fact that we know nothing.

what do we do with it?

we are satisfied with it.

or we pretend to be satisfied.

we have no choice.

having no choice is not so bad.

having no choice is good.

is a good excuse.

we're in the clear.

no one can do us harm.

is there someone who wants to do us harm?

for sure.

there's always someone.

is that why we're trembling?

because there is someone there?

but who?

is there someone there?

or did we just think there was someone there?

did we make there was someone there?

have we been thinking again?

have we been fantasizing again?

projecting?

and isn't projecting what we always do anyway?

is there anything else at all?

we see something.

no.

we think we see something.

while we project something onto something.

we do not see one thing and not the other.

we see the sum of something on something.

something on something is the code.

nothing without code.

what could that mean 'without code'?

without code is like projecting nothing.

projecting nothing is the equal to seeing nothing.

equal to trembling.

equal to thinking nothing.

thinking is projecting.

projecting is thinking.

how could it be otherwise?

yes how?

to see without projecting?

without projecting 'something'.

we don't even know what something is.

how can we leave something out that we don't know?

that we can't even think.

because thinking is always already a sum.

of something and something.

something we do not know.

we have already said that.

but if we don't know something, neither the one nor the other, how can we even know that there is this something, this or the other?

we don't know them both, but we still claim that they both exist.

we claim this because we make it.

we make it up.

we don't see it, we make it up.

what we see is a sum.

we have already said that as well.

but who tells us that it is a sum?

a sum has parts.

but we don't see the parts.

yet we call it a sum.

so how can we call it a sum?

a sum of something and something.

we are not getting anywhere here.

we have to try something else.

instead of projecting something onto something, maybe take something away from something.

that would be an idea.

a real idea.

subtract something from something.

and then there were ninety-nine.

but is subtracting really better?

when we don't even know what we're subtracting.

and from what.

then isn't everything just fantasized?

only imagined?

there is such a thing as imaginary numbers, isn't it.

no idea what that is.

but if there is something that doesn't exist, then this here could work.

then we could operate with what doesn't exist.

with the imaginary.

fantasy minus fantasy.

and then there were three hundred and forty-eight.

the more we subtract, the more it becomes.

fantasy piles up on fantasy.

who should understand that.

there will be more of less.

that doesn't benefit understanding.

but counting.

and trembling.

in any case, we can continue counting this way.

count on.

even if nothing is added, there will be more.

that's the code now.

nothing without code.

we have said this.

but we have to say it again and again.

so that it becomes more and less at the same time.

saying it again and again may seem redundant.

and it is.

but only redundancy gives us what becomes more and less at the same time.

redundancy means well with us.

it allows us to keep going here.

keep moving.

keep counting.

keep trembling.

with redundancy we can say something without stating anything.

that is a gain.

and a loss at the same time.

that is good.

redundancy is good.

redundancy is nice.

inhale.

exhale.

redundancy is beautiful.

beautiful is what is redundant.

beautiful is what escapes the statement, runs away, falls behind, stays behind.

inhale.

exhale.

stay completely in rhythm and yet do not match.

as with trembling.

do not coincide.

not with stating.

but with saying.

with the sound of saying.

but not with stating.

inhale.

exhale.

walk on.

left foot, right foot.

keep walking further.

only further.

nowhere.

further than the statement can ever say.

left foot, right foot.

inhale.

exhale.

steps on gravel.

left foot, right foot.

the crunching underfoot.

every step a crunch.

each crunch a little different.

especially with the non-standard gravel here.

no standard sizes here.

different gravel sizes mixed.

and alternating.

transitions from one gravel size to another gravel size.

and from sand to gravel.

and from soil to sand to gravel to mud.

differences between a more crunchy crunch and a less crunchy crunch.

if this is not a nice redundancy.

but those who want to do us harm will certainly deny it.

they will say that we are dealing with differences and not redundancies.

and differences are like statements to them.

they want to take it all away from us.

so that we accept everything we don't want.

they think they're giving us something.

they mean well with us.

they think they are right.

but they're not right.

the difference between this crunch and that crunch is stated in three seconds, while our walk on variable gravel takes three hours.

so it's not about a distinction, but about what lasts three hours, about what there are no words for.

perhaps the trembling.

sometimes more, sometimes less.

perhaps repetitions.

left foot, right foot.

but no words.

perhaps a saying.

but no stating.

inhale.

exhale.

redundancy.

redundancy is the measure of what the statement cannot say.

the measure of what the statement misses.

most of it.

we remember that those who want to harm us, those who mean well with us, are ultimately only made by us.

thought by us.

projected by us.

from something onto something.

we remember that.

they are a construction.

and those who mean well with us even call it a necessary construction.

they mean so well.

and miss most of it.

because most of it is not necessary.

or necessarily not necessary.

so they miss it.

and go on constructing.

we continue constructing.

or continue projecting.

construction or projection, that remains the same.

maybe it is the same thing.

who knows?

they will certainly know.

they always know everything.

we ourselves will know.

let's remember that we made them.

have thought them.

that we might even be them.

hard to imagine.

that we are them.

namely when we are what we have made.

have thought.

if we are that, then we are, in a sense...

...hard to imagine...

...locked into them.

or they into us.

either way.

and there's no getting out.

no way around.

no getting over it.

but only they say that.

and not us.

so we are not quite them.

and they are not quite us.

so there is a difference.

that will please them.

but the difference lies precisely in what they miss.

most of it.

most of it is the difference between them and us.

and between ourselves and us.

and then there's the trembling.

also that between ourselves and us.

the most is what remains when we subtract ourselves from us.

and then there were seven thousand nine hundred and thirteen.

more again.

it will always become more as it becomes less.

maybe this most is even the possibility to get out of here.

perhaps the only possibility.

the most as the only way to escape the projection.

is that an illusion?

escape from projection via the most.

the most, redundancy, beauty, gravel, exhale, inhale.

a beautiful illusion at least.

and if it is an illusion, we have made it, thought it, exactly as we have made, thought those who mean well with us.

exactly.

but if the illusion is like that, then it is also made in the same way, thought in the same way as any construction.

and no matter how necessary any construction may appear to be.

was that redundant enough?

was that something of the most?

we are not prophets.

we're just trembling.

it certainly wasn't the most.

or only very little.

far too little.

that's not enough.

the most takes time.

much more time.

three hours.

three hours on gravel.

or on sand.

counting grains of sand.

that could help.

count and sort.

sort by size.

or by color.

and don't stop trembling.

that could help.

it could last.

could take time.

could go on.

without going anywhere.

further than words.

words don't go that far.

words don't go until the most.

don't go until gravel.

miss the most.

miss the gravel.

words always want to differentiate.

the gravel doesn't want to.

not necessarily.

it is indistinguishably what it is.

gravel.

remains what it is.

gravel.

it is anything but easy not to distinguish with words.

anything but easy to become like gravel with words, to become redundant, to achieve the most.

it is almost impossible.

almost beauty.

and when it comes to words, suspicion is not far away.

the suspicion that it is once again just about an illusion, a construction, a projection.

and not about the most.

not about beauty.

not about not.

so something is excluded.

something from something.

but who is excluding whom here?

or what from what?

or what what?

does the illusion exclude the gravel?

exclude most of it?

or is it the construction?

the projection?

illusion, construction.

projection.

that's not the point.

this distinction is not the point.

the least of all.

but how is exclusion achieved?

by the not?

not gravel, not the most, not beauty.

by saying no.

more precisely, by stating no.

no to gravel, no to most things, no to beauty.

but beauty.

what is that?

something that doesn't say no?

a bride who says yes.

a bride in white?

we're not serious, are we?

that would explain all the tin cans.

that would explain a lot.

has anyone counted them yet, the tin cans?

that might help us more than the bride in white.

let's take that off again.

let's subtract the white from the bride.

or the bride from the white.

or both.

what is the result?

how many were left?

and then there were twenty-four thousand eight hundred and sixty-nine.

there are more and more.

more and more of the less.

is that in the direction of the most?

or in the direction of the bride.

let's leave the bride.

otherwise she'll say something.

otherwise she'll say yes.

that would be bad.

worse than the trembling.

as bad as being locked up.

as bad as those who mean well with us.

but saying no would be even worse.

that would be as bad as not.

that would be the end.

the end of the illusion of being able to escape the illusion.

so let's leave the bride.

illusion or construction or projection.

that's not the point.

we've already said that.

we have already said most of it.

and yet we never get closer to the most.

who is supposed to understand that.

nobody can understand that.

there is nothing to understand.

there is only trembling.

or is there something else?

as everyone can easily recognize, there is one thing we are definitely not.

prophets.

we're only trembling.

incessantly.

and who wants it to stop?

who wants that?

the cessation is perhaps the greatest illusion.

the end of the illusion is the greatest illusion.

the greatest projection.

incessant.

cessation never ends.

never again.

has never ceased.

the greatest illusion.

the greatest projection.

it is the same.

or the illusion is the projection we loose.

that we miss.

we miss the projecting itself.

the process.

the mechanics of projecting.

its components.

the one thing and the other.

we do not see it.

we do not hear it.

we do not recognize it.

such is the nature of this projection.

almost a non-projection.

but only almost.

certainly only almost.

conversely, the projection is then almost that illusion that believes itself.

which believes that it causes the projection itself, controls it itself, wants it itself, is responsible for it itself.

that illusion, then.

but as we have already said.

that is not the point.

we have taken off the bride, we can also take off the projection.

the projection of the illusion.

or vice versa.

the illusion of the projection.

that is not the point.

but then what is the point?

that what remains?

what remains?

and then there were three hundred and ninety-nine thousand four hundred and fifty-seven.

quite a lot.

and yet so little.

are we done counting grains of sand?

and?

are there exactly three hundred and ninety-nine thousand four hundred and fifty-seven?

right.

that's how many there are.

so few.

just a handful.

what an effort for a handful of sand.

so many numbers that add up to so little.

no trembling now.

not too much.

otherwise we'll scatter this little.

the little we have.

trickles through our fingers.

before we know it.

gone and over.

nothing remains.

nothing.

that again.

that what is least.

not the most.

the least.

that remains.

but what remains should be the least of our concerns.

but what should concern us then?

what is to come?

rather what trickles through.

through the fingers.

that which is not durable.

unstoppable.

that which belongs to the most.

not to the least.

not to the not.

only not to the not.

then rather to the bride.

to the bride who says yes.

all in white.

she could say yes to trickling.

and not to staying.

always only yes.

yesyesyesyesyes.

and not cease with it.

not cease trickling.

not cease melting.

not cease trembling.

but there is still too much not involved.

cease with ceasing.

let's try it again.

let's try it a little differently.

yes to trickling.

yes to melting.

yes to trembling.

if only it doesn't become a statement.

becomes firm.

becomes stiff.

becomes rigid.

it's not safe.

again 'not'.

we are spinning.

spin around in circles.

but that wouldn't be so bad.

then we'll pass the same pretty spots again.

that would be pretty.

but then we'll also pass the less pretty spots.

that's less pretty.

but we have to go through it.

and who knows.

maybe the less pretty spots will become a little prettier if we visit them several times.

they then lose their firmness.

their stiffness.

their rigidity.

they lose to be stating.

perhaps they become a little more fluid.

a little more trembling.

perhaps.

all in all, that's not such a bad balance.

interim balance.

those who mean so well with us may now be starting to tremble a little themselves.

just a little, but still.

that's not entirely bad.

not entirely.

it's almost like a start.

only almost.

but at least.

it's best to start again.

at the very beginning.

right now.