Tuesday, June 6, 2017

Being in the core. Awareness from on high.

Awareness being self-aware is scientific myth—where science is just another story and mythology is fact articulated in the language of lies.

All thought is simply a virus like an Asiatic bittersweet vine and love is like the next tree over.

If the past is prologue, the preface is the way to original face. June and it's not easy being rare.

Forgive yourself. Heavy lies the crown of creation. Enjoy this ode to joy of June for there is where the absolute is living.

And the black hole sees itself within the sun. The Nova Scotia fog is lifting.

The colors of a dream after waking to the fact that black is white or vice versa.

Dropping off body and mind is like a flower. The fragrance of true eyes. In the name of pure awareness and all projection.

No preface. No afterword. See what. Touch who. Hear where. Smell when. Taste why.

Nothing but the net of now. Do you want to know a secret? Consciousness is the fountain of youth.

Different tribes. One truth. Anything other than one or zero thinks it's one or zero.

Growing old is my latest koan. Poetry isn't real. Late night perambulations. Trust is like a unicorn.

First there is belief but there's no belief but there's what there is. Love without check is instant karma.

Karma without love is a hungry ghost. The holy grail is not an object. The renaissance is all about perspective.

Nothing beats trump but no trump. Henry David Thoreau. Leo Tolstoy. Martin Luther King. Arjuna.

See through you. Like crossing the Mojave Desert. You can’t make a horse drink but you can’t lead a person to water either.

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