still in the east

there is no time

there is no glory

there is no fame

there is no fortune

there is now

i felt it all

a direct hit of the senses

how could we have been so careless?

we were not.

we were bold

we explored

we explore

we discover

we live

to live is to love

just now

i will not judge. kind-hearted as a grandmother, i will not compromise. faithful to my old shoes, incomplete and unfinished, foolish. i am dignified as a king.

empty your mind of all thoughts. let your heart be at peace. watch the turmoil of beings, but contemplate their return. each separate being in the universe returns to the common source. returning to the source is serenity. if you don't realise the source, you stumble in confusion and sorrow. when you realise where you come from, you naturally become tolerant, disinterested, amused, kindhearted as a grandmother, dignified as a king. immersed in the Tao, you can deal with whatever life brings you, and when death comes, you are ready.

want

but what i want is not important, is it?

oh! i am tired!

i resent

resentment! what a strange word in my vocabulary it is. it is a foreign word in this vocabulary of mine. here in the place of horses and egos, my resentment has found a home.

i talked with you yesterday, you called, i answered, we both had no time. we connected. i feel naive and humbled. i am tasting sadness like i have never tasted sadness before. you told me about your back and your kidneys, and i told you about that secret that i keep hidden in plain sight, my pain.

i resent that she never took action to touch me. i do not resent being ignored.

it is strange that time and again you appear in my life to comfort me. you are a muse, you are inspiration, and you are imperfection itself.

are my sadness and pain the expression of my resentment? i do not resent not being acknowledged.

how can i tell you that it was not in the arms of another but in his arms i found that warmth that i dreamt could exist? when he found me i had so much resigned to my own solitude. now i need you the muse, and i need him the one of my one, his own.

i resent the deception. i see the suffering. i find myself powerless. i can only observe. but do i feel? do i care? i resent.