K was born, raised, and will go on through all he is talking about. He hopes somebody will eat the food. You see grass occasionally coming out of cement, and I hope nobody will tread on it. Unless you come out of that cement, unless there is a movement away from the stream of consciousness, the other thing cannot possibly exist. You can speculate about it, imagine it, romanticise it, worship it or pray to it, but that is all meaningless. It is like praying for peace when you are manufacturing armaments.