I started reading Wittgenstein’s masterpiece a year ago in weariness
Tonight I started reading from the last page and this happened
Wittgenstein wrote in Proposition 7: “What we cannot speak about we must pass over in silence.
A musical silence bigger than the silence itself and even bigger than the silence of Beethoven
There is no end to philosophizing
I closed the book and read no further
In such mystical silence I close my eyes