The Chicken and Egg
the morning in the kitchen on the table I see the egg. Eye
the egg with a single glance. Immediately I realize that it can not be seeing an egg. See the egg never remain in this: I see a bad egg and it becomes to have seen the egg for three millennia. - At the very instant of seeing the egg it is a reminder of an egg. - Only those who see the egg has already seen. - Seeing the egg is too late: as egg, egg lost. - See the egg is a promise to one day get to see the egg. - Looking at short and indivisible, if there is thought, no, there is the egg. - To look is the necessary instrument which, after use, throw away. I'll stick with the egg. - The egg has a self. Individually it does not exist.
See the egg is impossible: the egg is supervisível sounds like there is supersonic. No one can see the egg. The dog sees the egg? All the machines see the egg. Crane sees the egg. - When I was older an egg landed on my shoulder. - The love of the egg does not feel. Love the egg is super sensitive. We do not know who loves the egg. - When I was a former trustee of the egg and I walked lightly not to spill the silence of the egg. When I died, they took me to the egg carefully. Was still alive. - Only those who see the world see the egg. As the world's egg is obvious.
The egg is gone. As the light of a star already dead, the egg itself no longer exists. - You are perfect egg. You're white. - To you I dedicate the beginning. To you I dedicate the first time. When egg
dedicate the Chinese nation.
The egg is a suspended thing. Never landed. When it lands, was not he who landed. It was something that was below the egg. - Watch the egg in the kitchen with no attention to superficial break it. I take great care not to understand it. It is impossible to understand him, I know that I understand is because I am doing wrong. Understanding is the proof of the error. Understand it's not the way to see it. - Ever think the egg is a way of seeing it. - Do I know the egg? It is almost certain to know. So: I am, just know. - What I do not know the egg is what really matters. What I do not know the egg gives me the egg itself. - The Moon is inhabited by the eggs.
The egg is a manifestation. Have a shell is to give yourself .- The egg strips away the kitchen. Make an inclined plane of the table. The egg sets. - Who deepens an egg, who sees more than the surface of the egg, is wanting something else: you're hungry.
The egg is the soul of the chicken. Chicken clumsy. The egg right. The chicken scared. The egg right. As a projectile stopped. For egg is egg in space. Egg on the cake. - I love you, egg. I love you like a thing does not even know who else loves. - Do not touch it. The aura of my fingers do you see the egg. Do not touch it - but to devote myself to the vision of the egg would die to worldly life, and I need the yolk and albumen. - The egg sees me. The egg I preach? The egg I meditate? No, I just see the egg. It is exempt from the understanding that it hurts. - The egg never fought. He is a gift. - The egg is invisible to the naked eye. From egg to egg comes to God, which is invisible to the naked eye. - The egg was probably a triangle that both rolled into the oval space that was it. - The egg is basically a jar? Have been the first pitcher shaped by the Etruscans? No. The egg is originally from Macedonia. There was calculated, the result of harsher spontaneity. On the sands of a Macedonian man with a stick in his hand drew it. And then erased it with his bare foot.
The egg is something that needs to be careful. So the chicken egg is the disguise. For the egg the chicken cross the times there. Mother is for. - The egg lives for always being on the run early too much for your time. - The egg will always be revolutionary for the time being. - He lives inside the chicken so do not call it white. The egg white is the same. But it can not be called white. Not because it makes him ill, but people who call egg white, they die for life. Calling what is white white could destroy humanity. Once a man was accused of being who he was, and was called That Man. They had lied: He was. But until today we do not recover after each other. The general law to stay alive: you can say "a pretty face," but anyone who says "Face", dies; to have exhausted the subject.
Over time, the egg became a chicken egg. It is not. But, adopted, uses her surname. - Should we say "chicken egg". If I say only "egg", the subject is exhausted, and the world is naked. - For each egg, the danger is that they find out what might be called beauty, that is, their veracity. The veracity of the egg is not credible. If discovered, they may want to force it to become rectangular. The danger is not for the egg, it would not become rectangular. (Our guarantee is that it can not, no power is the great strength of the egg: its greatness comes not from the greatness of power, which radiates like not wanting.) But who fought to make him rectangular would be losing his own life. The egg exposes us therefore in danger. Our advantage is that the egg is invisible. And as for the initiated, the egg started disguise.
The body of the chicken, the chicken's body is the greatest proof that the egg does not exist. Just look for the chicken to become obvious that the egg is impossible to achieve.
And the chicken? The egg is the great sacrifice of the hen. The egg is the chicken cross bears life. The egg is the unattainable dream of chicken. The chicken loves the egg. She does not know that there is the egg. If I knew that in itself has the egg, would lose the status of chicken. Being a chicken is survival chicken. Surviving is salvation. For it seems that live there. Life leads to death. So what does the chicken is to be permanently surviving. Surviving is called to keep fighting against the life that is deadly. Being a chicken is. The chicken has embarrassed the air.
needs to know that chicken does not have an egg. Otherwise she would be saved as chicken, which is also not guaranteed, but would lose the egg. So she does not know. To use the egg the chicken is the chicken there. She was just about to be fulfilled, but liked. The chicken comes unequipped it: like it was not part of birth. Enjoy being alive hurts. - As for who came first, the egg that was found the chicken. The chicken was not even called. Chicken is a straight choice. - The chicken lives like a dream. Has no sense of reality. All the scare of the chicken is because they are always interrupting his reverie. Chicken is a great sleep. - The chicken is suffering from an unknown illness. The bad egg is unknown. - She does not know how to explain: "I know that the fault is in myself," she calls the error to life, "I do not know what I feel", etc..
"Etc., etc.. Etc..," Is what cackle all day chicken. The chicken has a lot of inner life. To tell the truth even if it only has chicken inner life. Our vision of its inner life is what we call "chicken." Life inside the chicken is to act as if he understood. Any threat of scandal and she screams like a crazy person. All this so that the egg does not break inside. Egg breaks inside the chicken is like blood. Chicken
look away. As if the horizon is that an egg would come. Outside of being a means of transport to the egg, the chicken is silly, empty and shortsighted. How could a hen understand whether it is the contradiction of an egg? The egg is still the same which originated in Macedonia. Chicken is always tragedy more modern. You are always in vain to par. And continues to be redrawn. Not yet was found the most appropriate way for a chicken. While my neighbor picks up the phone he redraws with pencil distracted chicken. But there's no way the chicken: it's in your condition does not serve itself. Nevertheless, it is your destination more important than her, and being your destination egg, his personal life does not interest us.
Within himself does not recognize the chicken egg, but outside you do not recognize it. When the chicken sees the egg you think you are dealing with an impossible thing. It is with the heart beating, his heart beating so she does not recognize it.
eye Suddenly the egg in the kitchen and see him the food. Not I admit, and my heart beats. The metamorphosis is doing in me, I start not being able to see the egg. Out of every particular egg, out of every egg that is eaten, the egg does not exist. Since I can no longer believe in an egg. I am increasingly powerless to believe, I'm dying, farewell, looked the other an egg and he was asleep.
The chicken did not want to sacrifice your life. The want it opted to be "happy." What did not realize that, if passed life drawing within itself as a miniature egg, she would be serving. What could not lose herself. The thought that had chicken feathers to cover themselves by owning precious skin, without understanding that the penalties were only to smooth the crossing while loading the egg because the intense suffering could harm the egg. The thought that pleased him was a gift, not realizing that she was totally distracted while the egg would. The did not know what "I" is just one of the words which are emerging as they answer the telephone, simply attempt to seek the most appropriate. The thought that "I" means having a self. Referred to the egg chickens are those that are an "I" without respite. In them the "I" is so constant that they can no longer pronounce the word "egg". But who knows, even if it was needed the egg. For if they do not were so distracted, if paid attention to the great life that is within them, would disturb the egg.
I started talking chicken and much more since I'm not talking chicken. But I'm still talking about the egg.
And here I do not understand the egg. Only understand the egg broken, break it in the skillet. It is this indirect way to offer myself to the existence of the egg: my sacrifice is to reduce me to my own personal life. I made my pleasure and my grief my destiny in disguise. And having just life itself is, for those who saw the egg, a sacrifice. As those in the convent, sweep the floors and washing clothes, serving without the glory of bigger role, my job is to live my pleasures and my pains. Will I have the modesty to live.
Caught one more egg in the kitchen, you break the shell and form. And from this very moment there was never an egg. It is absolutely essential that I be a busy and distracted. I am one of those who deny indispensably. I am part of Freemasonry that once saw the egg and deny as a way to protect it. We are those who refrain from destroying, and in this race. We, undercover agents and distributed by the functions less revealing, we sometimes acknowledge. At a certain way of looking, there is a way of giving hand, we recognize and call it love. And then there is no need to disguise although not talk, it does not mind, but does not tell the truth, it is not necessary to conceal. Love is when accorded a little more involved. Few want to love, because love is the great disappointment of all. And few would support losing all other illusions. There are those who volunteer for love, thinking that love will enrich their personal lives. It is the opposite: love is ultimately poverty. Love is not having. Even love is the delusion of what was thought to be love. And no prize, so do not conceited, love is not Award, is a condition exclusively granted to those who without it, corrupting the egg with the personal pain. This does not love an honorable exception, he is just given to bad actors, those who would disturb all if they were not allowed to guess vaguely.
The agents are given many benefits to the egg is done. Not the case to be jealous because even some of the conditions worse than those of others, are ideal conditions for the egg. As for the pleasure of the agents, they also receive no pride. Live austerely all pleasures: including our sacrifice is to the egg is done. We have already been imposed, including an appropriate nature to be happy. That makes it easy. At least make it less painful pleasure.
There are cases of officers who kill themselves: they believe insufficient instructions and few sit without support. There was the case agent who revealed publicly that agent because it was intolerable not be understood, and he could not stand not having the respect of others: hit died after leaving a restaurant. There was another who did not need to be removed: he was consumed slowly in his anger, his anger came when he discovered that the two or three instructions received did not include any explanation. There was also another deleted because he felt that "the truth must be boldly said," and began in the first place to look for it, it was said that he died for the truth with his innocence, his courage was apparent folly, and it was naive their desire for fairness, he realized that being loyal is not a clean thing, to be fair is being unfair to the rest. These extreme cases of death are not out of cruelty. Is there a job, say cosmic being done, and unfortunately the individual cases can not be taken into account. For those who succumb and become individual is that there are institutions, charity, understanding that does not discriminate reasons, our life finally.
eggs pop in the pan, and plunged into the dream preparing breakfast. Without any sense of reality, cry for the children who spring from several beds, chairs and drag eat, and work begins on the day dawned, cried and laughed and ate, yolk and white, joy between fights, that day is our salt and we are the salt of the day, life is very tolerable, live takes and distracts, live laugh.
And makes me smile on my mystery. My mystery is that I am only a means, not an end, has given me the most malicious of the freedoms I am not silly and enjoy it. Also, do an harm to anyone else, frankly. The fake job they gave me to disguise my real job, as I take the fake job and do my real goals, including the money they give me daily how to ease my life so that the egg does, because that money I have used for other purposes, diversion of funds, recently bought shares in Brahma and I'm rich. To that, I still call to have the necessary modesty of living. And also the time they gave me, and that gives us just so honored in idleness the egg is done, because I have used this time to illicit illicit pleasures and pains, entirely forgotten the egg. This is my simplicity.
Or that's what they want happen to me, just to meet the egg? It is freedom or am I being sent? Because I have been noticing that everything is my mistake has been tapped. My outrage is that for them I am nothing, I'm just precious: they take care of me second per second, with the absolute lack of love, I am just precious. With the money they give me, I've been drinking lately. Breach of trust? But is that nobody knows how it feels inside him whose job is to pretend it is cheating, and believing that ends in their own betrayal. Whose daily job is to forget. One of whom is required apparent disgrace. Neither my mirror reflects more a face that is mine. Or am an agent, or is even betrayal.
But I sleep the sleep of the just knowing that my life is not futile hinders the march of the big time. On the contrary: it seems that is required of me that I'm extremely vain, is required of me even as I sleep just. They want me worried and distracted, and no matter how. Well, with my attention and my silliness seriously wrong, I could get what he is doing through me. It's that I own, I itself, have only served to disrupt it. What tells me that perhaps I am an agent is the idea that my destiny beyond me, at least that they had even let me guess, I was of those who would harm the work is not at least guess a little, made me forget what got me guessing, but I was vaguely the notion that my destiny beyond me, and I am the instrument of their work. But anyway it was only instrument that I could be, because work could not even be mine. I've tried it out on your own and did not work, got me this far trembling hand. Had I insisted a little more and would have forever lost health. Since then, since this unsuccessful experience, I try to reason this way: which I have been given much, they've given me everything that can be granted, and that the other agents, much higher to me, also worked only on what did not. And the same with very few instructions. I've been given much: that, for example: one time or another, with a beating heart for the privilege, at least I know I'm not recognizing! With the heart beating with excitement, at least I do not understand! Beating-heart confidence, at least I do not know.
But the egg? This is one of the quirks of them: while I was talking about the egg, I had forgotten the egg. "Speak, speak," they instructed me. And the egg is fully staffed with so many words. Speak too, is one of the instructions, I'm so tired.
By devotion to the egg, I forgot. My oversight required. My selfish oblivion. Because the egg is an elusive. In front of my worship possessive he could hold back and never return. But if he's forgotten. If I make the sacrifice to forget him. If the egg is impossible. Then - free, soft, without any message for me - perhaps because he still can get around the area until this window that has always left open. And at dawn download in our building. Sereno to the kitchen. Illuminating it from my paleness.
Clarice Lispector, Clandestine Happiness
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