none else can ever deconstruct the paint layered facades that hide reality thought concept belief singularity intertwining mist where I and not-I ever flow toward and away from each
Always the whispers of sages slip into oblivion. Loving struggle, ever adventuring to say the as yet unsaid, finds refreshment by raising up the forgotten.
Our lives can be our own or they can belong to others. And in saying that, I do not mean that in the former instance
Our greatest shortcoming: obsessive desire for certainty, compulsive appetite for the sure thing. Some will panic in the search; a few get utterly lost in