Chapter 11 4 counting sheep

It is possible for us to wander aimlessly across an accidental land.Just as the winged seeds of a certain plant are carried to an unknown place by the bewildered spring wind. But at the same time we can also say that chance does not exist at all.What has happened is definitely happened, and what has not happened is definitely not happened.In other words, we are momentary beings caught between the whole behind and the zero in front of us, where there is neither chance nor possibility. In practice, however, there is not much difference between the two views.It's like (as are most opposing views) the same dish being called by two different names.

This is a metaphor. It is an accident that I look at a photograph of a sheep in the color page of a PR magazine from one point of view (a) and not from the other point of view (b). (a) When I was looking for photos suitable for the color pages of PR magazines, I happened to have a photo of a sheep in my drawer.So I used that photo.Peaceful chance in a peaceful world. (b) The picture of the sheep is in the drawer, waiting for me all the time.Even if I don't use the coloring pages in that magazine, I will use it for something else someday. Thinking about it this way, this formula may not necessarily apply to all aspects of the entire life process I have experienced in the past.If I train well, maybe I can manipulate my life in (a) with my right hand and life in (b) with my left hand.But, forget it, it doesn't matter.Like a donut hole.To grasp the donut hole as a void, or as a being, is after all a matter of metaphysics.The taste of the donut will not change in the slightest.

◇ After the partner went out for something, the room suddenly became empty.Only the second hand of the electronic clock continued to rotate silently.It's still early at four o'clock when the car will pick me up, but there's nothing I can't do.The studio next door was also quiet. I sat on the sky blue sofa drinking whiskey, floating like a dandelion seed, blowing the comfortable air-conditioning while looking at the electronic clock.Just look at the electronic clock, at least the world continues to move.Even if it's not a great world, it's still moving.And as long as I realize that the world continues to move, I exist.Even if it is not a remarkable existence, at least I always exist.I think it seems a little strange that people can only confirm their own existence through the second hand of an electronic clock.There should be other confirmation methods in the world.But try as I might, I can't think of anything appropriate.

I gave up thinking about it and took another sip of whiskey.The burning sensation crossed the throat, passed through the inner wall of the esophagus, and quickly descended to the fundus of the stomach.The blue summer sky and white clouds stretch as far as the eye can see outside the window.Although it is a beautiful sky, it looks a bit like a worn-out second-hand product.Before sending it to the auction, the medieval sky was polished with medicinal alcohol to make the surface look good.I take another sip of whiskey for such a sky, for a summer sky that used to be new.Not bad scotch.And the sky is not so bad as long as you get used to it.Jumbo jets cut slowly across the windows from left to right.It looked like a bug covered in a shiny hard shell.

As I finished my second whiskey, I wondered why the hell am I here?attacked by the problem. What the hell am I thinking? It's sheep. I got up from the couch, picked up the photocopy that was on my partner's desk, and went back to the couch.Then, while licking the ice that still smelled of whiskey, he stared intently at the photo for about twenty seconds.I was very patient trying to think about what that picture really meant? The photos show sheep and grasslands.The end of the grassland is connected to the birch forest.A huge white birch unique to Hokkaido.Not the tiny little white birches that make do by the entrance of the dentist's house nearby.It's the kind of thick birch that four bears can sharpen their claws at the same time.Judging by the degree of luxuriance of the leaves, the season seems to be spring.There is still white snow on the top of the mountain behind.There are also several remaining snow in the valleys on the mountainside.Probably around April or May.The snow is melting and the ground is wet.The sky is blue (probably blue. It is not clear whether it is blue from the black-and-white photo. Maybe it is the pink color of salmon meat), and the white clouds stretch out a thin long tail on the mountain.No matter how you think about it, the sheep mean the sheep, the birch forest means the birch forest, and the white cloud means the white cloud.that is it.Nothing else.

I dropped the photo on the table, smoked a cigarette, and yawned.Then pick up the picture again and try to count sheep this time.However, the grassland is too vast, and the sheep feel scattered like a picnic lunch, so the farther you go, the more unclear it is whether it is a sheep or just a white spot, and then it becomes Not knowing if it was just a white spot, or an illusion of the eyes, turned into not knowing whether it was an illusion of the eyes, or just nothingness.No way, I can only try to count the things that I can be sure to be sheep with the tip of the ball pen for the time being.Thirty-two is that number.Thirty-two sheep.A landscape photo without any changes.The composition is not particularly good, nor does it have any special meaning.

But there is something in it.Has a troublesome smell.That's what I felt when I first saw it, and what I've been feeling for the past three months. This time I just lay down on the sofa, held the photo up to my face, and tried to count the sheep again.Thirty-three heads. Thirty-three heads? I close my eyes and shake my head.Let the mind become a blank.good!It's okay, I thought.Even if something were to happen, nothing had happened yet.And if something has happened, it has happened. I'm still lying on the sofa, trying to challenge the number of sheep again.And just like that, I fell into the deep sleep of two whiskeys in the afternoon.Before falling asleep, I thought of the ear of my new girlfriend for a moment.