And Now the Eighth Stage
Here, the sounds are in distress, and also the man who is behind the sounds, and also the world, which is the man’s shelter. But why is that so? Perhaps because the sounds insist – inevitably — on singing a chorus which has always been in distress; or perhaps the sounds are the very distress themselves; and even more, and optimistically, they are both this, and that.
Struggle, light, and hope; Surrender, darkness, and despair; Connection and disconnection, Victory and defeat. And all this, in a context of irony, humor that ridicule everything. Is it all, striving for order and meaning? Or, for disorder and dismeaning?
And the release never comes. The distress seems to remain, does it really? The way keeps on going, entrapped by the fear that might be stopped. And the voyage keeps on going, and also meaning, anticipation, hope, they keep on going; fear and anxiety; and light, light and hope.