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