Read the book: «This. A Book About the Unwritable»

© Sergei Kirnitskii, 2025

ISBN 978-5-0068-2345-7

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

Science describes the mechanism. But seeing itself remains a mystery.

You look at someone close. Recognize them. From billions of faces – this one. Instantly. Without effort. A supercomputer couldn’t do it so fast.

But for you it’s not an achievement. Just – recognized and that’s it.

Chapter 1: What’s Happening Right Now

You’re reading.

Eyes moving left to right. Black marks becoming words. Words becoming meaning. It all happens so fast, you don’t notice how. Just – reading itself.

What else is happening right now?

Maybe you’re sitting. Or lying down. The weight of your body, felt. Pressure at points of support. Air temperature on skin. All this was here a second ago, but you notice only now, having read these words.

Breathing. It’s been happening all along while you read these lines. But where was your attention? In the words. And breath went on breathing itself.

Now you’ve noticed the breathing. Has it changed? Become slightly tense, controlled? Wait. In a few words you’ll forget again. And it will return to being natural.

Sounds. What sounds are here right now? Don’t turn on attention specifically. Just allow sounds to be noticed. Close ones. Distant ones. Maybe a refrigerator’s hum. Or voices through the wall. Or traffic noise. They were here all along. The world was making its sounds while you read in the silence of words.

Thought: “So what? What’s the point?”

Did you notice? It came by itself. You didn’t decide to think it. Just – arose. From where? Now perhaps another one arose. Or an evaluation. Or a memory. They come and go like clouds.

Expectation. You’re waiting for something important to come next. Some meaning. Some revelation. Where are these simple observations leading?

But while you wait for what’s next, this is happening. Reading. Breathing. Sensations. Thoughts. Expectation. This is all there is right now.

Maybe you’re reading quickly, eyes skimming, looking for the essence. Or slowly, thoughtfully. Or with irritation: “So what?”

Whatever’s happening – that’s what’s happening right now.

This page. These letters. This seeing. This understanding or not understanding. This agreement or argument. All of this – right now.

Not yesterday’s regrets. Not tomorrow’s plans. Not memories of the past. Not dreams of the future. Only this.

But here’s what’s strange. As soon as we say “only this” – attention starts looking for something else. As if “this” is too simple, too ordinary. There must be something more important, deeper, more…

What if there isn’t?

What if all there is – is what’s happening right now? Without hidden meaning. Without secret depth. Without special importance.

Just: words being read. Thoughts arising. Breathing happening. Body being felt. Sounds being heard.

Are you still waiting for something from this chapter? Some conclusion? Direction? Revelation?

What if this very simplicity is the revelation?

Right now the last lines of the first chapter are being read. Perhaps slight disappointment: “That’s it?” Or curiosity: “What’s next?” Or recognition: “Yes, exactly.”

Whatever’s happening – is happening right now.

And nothing else is needed.

Chapter 2: The Problem with Words

Tree.

You read this word. What happened? An image arose in consciousness. Maybe a specific tree from childhood. Or a generalized image – trunk, branches, leaves. Or just understanding: “ah, tree.”

But where’s the tree itself? Not here. Only four letters.

Look out the window. Do you see a tree? Or something you call “tree”?

There it stands, real. But the moment you think “tree,” you’re already with the word, not with the thing itself. Between you and the living, unique, unrepeatable this-ness, the category “tree” has appeared.

Pain.

What arose? A memory of pain? Slight tension? Rejection?

Now pinch yourself. Really. Feel it? That’s not “pain.” That’s burning, pressure, pulsation. “Pain” is just a label. The sensation itself is far more complex, alive, specific than any word.

The most used word. I think. I feel. I go. I want.

But what does it mean? Who is this “I”? You use this word hundreds of times a day, but can you say what it names?

Words create an illusion of understanding. Say “table” – and it seems you know what a table is. But touch the table. Feel the hardness, coolness, smoothness or roughness. This isn’t “table.” This is what you call table.

The word “table” is the same for everyone. But what you’re touching – is unique.

Love. Fear. Joy. Sadness.

Four words. Neat, convenient boxes for the chaos of feelings. But remember a moment of real fear. Was the word “fear” there? Or was there heartbeat, cold, tension, readiness to run?

The word comes after. Like a label on a box containing what has already passed.

Now you’re reading words about words. Understanding words through other words. A consciousness dictionary where each definition refers to another definition.

Where’s the exit from this circle?

– Silence.

No words in it. But as soon as you think “silence” – it’s no longer the same. It became a word.

You’re breathing. But when you think “I’m breathing” – between you and breathing appear “I” and “breathing.” Two words instead of one process.

Try breathing without words. Just allow breath to be. Can you? Or does the inner commentator whisper: “inhale… exhale…”?

This book is made of words. Points with words to what’s beyond words. Absurd? Yes. But there’s no other way. Words are the only ladder. You climb it to then throw it away.

The problem isn’t with words. The problem is believing the word is what it names. That “life” is life. That “death” is death. That “I” is I.

But words are just sounds. Marks. Air vibrations. Ink on paper.

What happens when you understand this? The world becomes quieter. Not outside – inside. The endless chatter about the world subsides. The world itself remains.

But as soon as you say “the world remains” – here are words again.

You’re finishing this chapter. Understood something or got confused – doesn’t matter. Both are just words about words.

And what’s beyond words – you already know. Just forgot that you know.

Because this knowledge – isn’t in words.