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  • I guess after you die a few times in a single life, the restrictions start to wear off. The beauty becomes sharper and the little crap is someone else's. If it ever happens to you, then you will know, if it doesn't , it will, and if you survive, then the prayer meditation of witnessing the Simple becomes relevent in everything.

    Living, Dying? Of course by now, most of us know which is the more difficult. Even the little deaths that come your way, turn into the breathing flour you need in the bread making lesson, while the real messages remain the salted yeast , the fire and the taste.
    Truth? How many people are there and how many need to be shielded from it? Multiply that by a random number past infinity and you get down to the nitty of searching.
    Lies? The cloaks of individuals used in order to remain comfortably corrupt for personal reasons. Remember that random number i mentioned? Well take that spectacular measure and divided it by itself. Then you will see in the field of your own color, something standing alone. Naked. but don't blink, cause that show is moving and if you miss it, you won't know or care to know how deep the survival game goes..(for your own protection) , that is.

    After all, when you meet as many dead , as I have, you get used to the balance and the recognition of the string dance. You know, the one we all have? The Marrionett's strings and the knife. So which is it...? The Truth? The Lie? or the .... Juggle?

    When, all it is, is your chance to use the energy you have. What do your roles lead you to do with the justifications that remain all lined up in the logical list that, shops for itself? Or, is it the sun, dirt, water, laughter,tears in Love's music and all those dream-like expressions that stand clearly out on their own for you to pick as flowers or plant as seeds?
    For me? I'm already dead. So, truth it is, in the ruthless kindness, inbetween garden searches of my chances to focus while the choices spin the universe.

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