So, here I am this soft mellow morning with a persistent itch on the brain. It tells me I should have been more … patient … understanding … tolerant … in the family encounter of yesterday.
It’s closely followed by another itch that tells me my behavior was … direct … honest … overdue.
Then something that doesn’t feel itchy in the slightest says “There’s the mirror old girl. Take a look.”
“Bad bitch, good bitch – is LOOKING-KNOWINGNESS affected by these arguing itches?”
The itching bitching wags its tail. What a good game! Toss me another story to tear up!
what entertainment, to watch the things Life gets up to
in this dream-spun cocoon!
unburdened, thanks to a mini-mindshift,
there’s no longer a sack of guilt or blame or duty
on my back
what about responsibility?
Life knows how to respond to anything that can be dreamed up
in any of ITs dreams
Life is amorality
amorality is an interesting word –
means transcendental love
fictional self hangs on its tailor-made cross
first, self swallowed its own story,
and then it dreamed up the ‘cross’ concept
to hang its guilty suffering self upon
then, of course it needed to invent
best way out?
invent a hereafter, with exclusive admission rights
this keeps self in business – selling sure salvation
but this is what I have seen with savage clarity:
the whole ‘solid-state self’ story is a fake,
a huge human hoodwink
no self : no doership
no doership : no suffering
no suffering : no salvation