Sam and Sara's Original Horror Show

When love mistook it was the mind, 

all kinds of hell broke out, you see. 

Well, love, it got real lost in all 

loose change and counterfeit three dollar bills 

and, well, I needn’t have to tell 

you it’s a god-damned sin, my friend, 

a love-forsaken bloody shame. 

It’s like some crosscut saw becomes 

an eye and all the sights turned out 

divided. I’m not talking long 

division but the slow and violent 

sort. It makes you sick to think 

of it. Like everything was either 

this or that and if you wasn’t 

on the side it occupied, 

well you was on the other side, 

and please believe me, that’s no scenic 

point of view to be. In fact, 

it’s all-out war. And not the worldly 

only, small potatoes too, 

just people being people, taking 

everything so personal. 

It’s quite the horror, don’t you think? 

all is self-inquiry already pseutra

seven billion selves suffering to know oneself

in seven billion welcome different loving ways,

all shimmering facets of the one diamond way.

nothing is ever wrong because

every apparent self is intending toward thatself

by following the love of oneself

in the best way imaginable.

the best way imaginable isn't

'the ends justify the means' or vice versa

but the hidden realization

the means are the ends *and* vice versa.

once seeing

'for I to know anything, I must first know this I,'

then any meaning of the universe is obviously

intent to know That, I.