Thoughts random, kitchen at rest, bed made and still emptiness.
Humans live in small experiential boxes that make up the very personal psychological experiment of each one of us.
Separation and unity are blurred concepts which cannot bring us forward. Ultimately everything one could meaningfully comment is abstracted and put into grammar and convention. Grammar is convention also so everything we are commenting is put in convention and convention. Let's make it even more obvious... Conventions determine language.
This is going to be a confusing post for me. I just jot down spikes of mental activity that make it to my fingertips. How good could this get... But let it be a mess! I like messiness but only on occasion. What is there not to like: thoughts interrupting one another, objects on top of objects, things in front of other things without a reason for the one preceding the other. A mess is beautiful because it is a manifestation of an order beyond our boxed out categories. In a mess things don't fit and spill out of their shapes. It is exhilarating but also tiring.
At some point the mixture of shapes and positions wins its own independence. This is when our faculties give up the categorization and frame the whole mess as a homogeneity - let's call it chaos. It has a name and now it can be catalogued and put on a shelf for everyone to find it when they need it. But chaos transcends the word we have for it. It is more fundamental than that. The word, however, helps us not to think about it while thinking about it. The word accustoms us to a meaning which we then substitute for the 'real thing' and that is why we can sleep at night.
Go make a mess!