The TIBETAN BOOK Of The DEAD advocates that a Rage of Compassion to be the antidote to insatiable lust. The appetite for selfish gratification is a poison. Compared to how the rest of the world lives our petty wants and addictions are self indulgence without limit. "There but for the grace of God go I." (I don't even believe in a personal god and yet I agree.)
Walking the streets of my city I see people from all over the world with whom I speak. My love makes my heart explode. I chose poverty and internment over hedonism. After my separation I returned to the cloister of sleep. And when I awoke again I found myself in this beautiful ghetto of Learning Dreams and Bohemian sensibility. But still my heart is calling. Everyone I knew is gone, but for the few who've survived from then may remember me badly. My sins are not washed in a bath of blood. Wrath is peace in a world of indifference. I am as harmless as a kitten. (And almost as weak.)
In designing my own "SoulCraft" (A delivery system for the spirit to pass back into the world from which we came,) I found an endless bounty.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Is there anybody out there?