_ The unknowability of the breath is the source of all seduction. It’s the motion of all things, places and people; without it we are - how would you say? - dead. Would you say dead?
_ Dead.
_ There you go.
_ Anything else you want me to say?
_ The ‘dead thing’... it has a bit of a ring-a-ding-ding to it. We don’t know it’s over until it’s over; and then it will be as though it never was. Being and non-being; such and thus. It neither is, nor isn’t. What just happened? I don’t know.
_ Though the skies are blue, and the sun doth shine, you somehow find a cloud, gray and nasty.
_ I know this dude who won twenty five hundred dollars. He went straight home, and as he was sitting at the dinner table with his wife and three kids he reached into his pocket. He gave one hundred dollars to each of his kids; into his wife’s hand, which he was wont to hold, time and again, he placed the remaining twenty-two hundred. She was bewildered. She asked him, “ What are you doing?” He got up from the table and said, “ The dishes”.
_ It’s got a ring-a-ding-dang-do to it.
_ Chai?
_ As I breathe.
<><><>
... The traffic jam of self allows for neither life to flow in, nor flow out. We, instead, idly sit by, becoming more and more frustrated.
... Surfactants, mendicants, lubricants and gnomes: Please report to the 'You Are Here' sign.
photo credit
<><><>
... The traffic jam of self allows for neither life to flow in, nor flow out. We, instead, idly sit by, becoming more and more frustrated.
... Surfactants, mendicants, lubricants and gnomes: Please report to the 'You Are Here' sign.
photo credit
excellent
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