buber-heidegger

Buber-Heidegger

I-am
Attached at all times
And
Separation is an illusion justified
By
My person being myself at all times,
An individual
I-am,
But not really, not ever enough.
The extremes are cutting off their harsher edges and opting out for
A shorter cut,
A cleaner look,
A mystified mysterious mystery.

Who knows?

Being-in-the-world is to be the world, but not to be exactly the world in which there must be parts or there would be no world.

But, then “there” is the “there” that is war.
Take your politics, take your religion.
Take them, they are yours
As themes that think your-life for you.

Unheard of hate and inseparability, you are the very hater who loves to have and loves.
Cohabitation, co-aggulation, co-depedence, oscillation, flux, movement, timespace, go.
Justification? Arche? Telos? Any-where-at-all?
Here.
Always here, after all.
Everyday anamnesis, we here-you Plato.
Answered call within our sleep, your echo reverberates in a fall.
Intelligible call we cannot deny, are you right, are you left, must we turn to go?

Knowing without knowing at all.
No you-me or you know you and me?