12 May 2014

One Hundred and Nine


109


How can any world infested by me-myself-and-I even begin to hope to survive?

* * * *
Life can be turbulent enough without ever making yourself a target.

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What’s one finger snappin’ sound like on one hand clappin’?

* * * *
The high road is far less worn than all the lower ones.

* * * *
The longing for oblivion runs silent, runs deep.

* * * *
Another piece of the dream in the wake.

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So much to know, so much to let go.

* * * *
Just more yada-yada dogma.

* * * *
Awareness is eternity’s teflon.

* * * *
The quantum matrix abides all things.

* * * *
METU: Mobile Energy Transmutation Unit.

* * * *
What point is there, really, to a huge pile of anything?

* * * *
Don’t need no dumb phone to see which way the wind blows.

* * * *
Another chunk of change for nothing you really needed desperately.

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Wanting to believe something so will never make it so if it is not and can never be.