I am a potion of chemicals, cells, muscles and bones walking around a town.I am a beaker test sending results back to who knows where.I am a nerve castle from toe to head.I am is.I am world.I am as real as a dream that ends when the eyes open to this other dream.
To see clearly from moment to momentand accept what is. And what does it mean to see clearly? To take in what you can perceive as true.To eliminate the stuff that’s not true.And that, more often than not, includes a ration of self-told stories, alerts and other internal bothersancesthat cloud the lens of looking directly. …
And how would I die?Why be safe?What is chance?What is bad luck but a story laid over chance?What is anything?Is there urgency here?What’s urgent? Not that you do anything or solve anything for someone else.But that you live the moments clearly – thankful that the lights are on;that the eyes are open;that the senses are …
How can there be any other explanation for what’s going on here other than play?There is nothing more than an inter-play of witnesses.When someone demands to make a story of it,Then you know an avalanche of lies is coming.That’s all the trouble you’ve ever known.And you created it all.And the miracle of it all is …
The rich people who paid millions to forgo life,to live in boxes with small views,who never leave their TV living roomsto see the world,who tell themselves storiesabout an imagined, liberal, or conservative, or evil, or progressive,or God-fearing, or Satan worshiping enemy.Those putting so much energy into the story of other and against. And what story …
