17 August 2014

Two Hundred and Eighty-Five

285


Speculation is not truth, never has been, will never be.

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Regarding beauty, what can insects possibly be thinking when they mate?

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The might that makes right is not necessarily, perhaps rarely, just.

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Follow none but those who freely point to the way within.

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So, after it is all said and done, is it five o’clock, yet?

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Sit down, shut up, look at your umbilicus, breathe.

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Know the mind, know the body, discern the Soul.

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Everything and nothing in every passing moment.

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A Christmas tree is dying to come home with you.

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The mind is all, but prior to that, who is there to say?

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Questioning your assumptions is an art unto your Self.

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A handful of individuals does not for a revolution make.

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Of history, what can be said but that it is a theater of the absurd.

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What point providing answers to those who have never even asked a question?

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Only the true scientist will not sell his soul for ironic funding.