Sunday, July 19, 2009

Love must be the experience of loss. So is this love for the idea ? The loss of the idea. In one focus range all the beautiful things on continuum roll on along, manifesting, and the verse range destroys. I'll imagine climbing out, aside the waste wreckage from the past. I am above. There is one beautiful thing in the breast. We are infinite expanse, yet not in a multiplicity. The we defines us. There is no us for it has all failed, even the misery is not. When viewed the most miserable disappears and fades. Thank you miserable ones, and beautiful ones... from the bottom of my heart. okay.

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