What hurts you, blesses you.
Darkness is your candle.
Your boundaries are your quest.
I can explain this, but it would break the glass cover on your heart, and there is no fixing that.
Your boundaries are your quest. Anyone who has played an RPG before knows that the stronger the darkness, the stronger the light must become to vanquish it. As the light fades, so another cycle begins. Waxing and waning like the moon, the tides, a good song, a beautiful life... What would I be without the struggles that have humbled me? I would not be a hero. No darkness, no light. To awaken to that truth-- there is no going back, is there?
A builder looks for the rotten hole where the roof caved in. A water carrier picks the empty pot. A carpenter stops at the house with no door.
Workers rush towards some hint of emptiness, which they then start to fill. Their hope, though, is for emptiness, so don't think you must avoid it. It contains everything you need!
God has allowed some magical reversal to occur, so that you see the scorpion pit as an object of desire.
So strange your fear of death and emptiness is, and perverse the attachment to what you want. One day your name shall be erased from the roaring volume of speech.
First off, fuck. The emptiness is always what we seek. It fills us up. Death and emptiness are synonyms here. Don't avoid emptiness, it contains everything you need? So strange is your fear of emptiness, you see the scorpion pit as an object of your desire. He's telling us to reach out to the emptiness and fill it up instead of trying to shine our lights bright enough to blast it away-- that'll never work, it'll just make darker shadows. He's also telling us to not fear death, for it is not the end of our lives it is the joining of our lives with the collective. It will go to the place that words cannot describe.