Sssssssssnnn O

_ I'm somewhat reluctant to encounter fellow humans on snowy mornings for fear that they'll insist, in an aggressively claustrophobic manner, that I agree with them that the snow is beautiful.

_ Isn't the snow beautiful?

_ No. No, it's not.

_ No?

_ Yes.

_ Yes? No?... Now I understand.

_ I'm glad to hear that because so much of what we do, and who we are, is requiring of a massive understanding. Not explaining, mind you, but understanding.

_ Yes, the snow isn't beautiful.

_ Very quietly I am going to enter another realm wherein the snow is neither beautiful, nor not beautiful; a realm wherein nothing exists in opposition to anything else.

_ A fragile beauty is snow; a mere hint, and then...gone. Gone to gray, to slush, to black, to pocked yellow...

_ To pocked yellow?

_ Anyway it's raining now. I can hear it on the tin roof.

_ Don't you just love the sound of rain falling on a tin roof?

_ Chai, please... and throw this bum out.


                                                                     ******

        I assume our nervous system is capable of dealing with us having an intense love for all of life.

       What separates a teacher from a pupil?

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmwFcBC7IwodMd33eFy-h2AGT4a8zMpVC4_8ksWEbFx1h8r3oZozOBpRUyFdrturhdn9udsyTwyM1D_4bZdMO3GS2GSwOB8CrX2e_J3M6e-1w3bJ8a_Zjrsv0kGXPA-kYw3wD0qOv-8pE/s1600/Yellow+Snow+-+Meringue+in+Liquid+Nitro,+Curry+&+Lemon+Curd.jpg
      

Da Numba Niyen...turnmeondeadman

_ It's been a while; I thought you was dead.
_ Indeed.
_ Need I ask?
_ Ask.
_ Howsaboy?
_ Grown into a man, heading for the light with darkness as my guide.
_ Don't get too close.
_ To the light, or to the dark?
_ Yes, and yes.
_ An embarrassment...
_ ...of riches. The sons of...
_ Katie Elder...
_ Branches. Sunk deep in the sky.
_ The Earth moves as doth a bon-bon in a stiff breeze.
_ Have you seen that by which seeing all things make a no sense.
_ Indeed-y-do; in mine size twelve shoe.
_ Good to know some things don't change.
_ That makes no sense.
_ Good to know that all things only change; change changing change, with tock making tick.
_ Slipper the dipper the night of barefoot prose. Chai by moonlight, by noonlight, in the garden, by the gutter.
_ Sweet aromas wafting, while the denser effluvia gather with the vermin in the dank dark loathsome places always there.
_ Let's not forget the loathsome places. Mind reeks of rot; a heart unplumbed.
_ The spitting image of a chip off the ol' block.
_ Did you bring the key?
_ Yes. Chai?
_ Yes.

                                                                   ************

... And thus they had chai; and all was as it was, with not a hair out of place.

... We know that we don't know; thus knowing. Hither hie homeward; the holidays approacheth, he lispeth. I - repeat - I - the strategic dominion of mind splattered everywhere. Wait in stillness

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinGzDfDAZvm8qlJWG1DR3hokzgiT6MjTKtiE0UML27H5fbjMuPDx0tHvLMryEU_jwIIQLwurX5ayib6KL9hEemYl9ldk_GDt7juSWqMb68VUg89YAosv9bqaj0Zp_KmBZcI_YXIZW6Xavq/s1600/darkness-and-light.jpg