All I am is a pinpoint.
I am not on the razor’s edge.
I am is the razor’s edge.
I am the razor’s edge.
The tip of the needle.
This is mystery.
This is what is attempted to be packaged and sold.
God doesn’t need to convince itself it’s God.
Only a confused, separated, fallen one.
Who needs to assert Self?
Do you need to assert yourself as yourself?
Assertions, and any identification, are inherently dualistic.
Is self-understanding inherently dualistic?
How can one see oneself?
Excellence requires no leakage.
Absolutely none.
If there is but a single leak, the whole ship goes down, and you with it.
Compromise. Compassion. Sympathy.
What are these but leaks.
When people get away with whatever they can, they will continue to do so.
A dangerous man.
I kept myself shuttered away.
You couldn’t pry this thing from my cold, dead hands.
It was never that hard for me.
I was never like Arjuna.
Sure, I had fallen many times. But never for people.
No, I’ve been behind enemy lines all my life.
Well, you were never really my master, were you?
But you were, by proxy.
I have to admit I almost feel gaslit.
You already got my message. If you read it, you already know I didn’t understand.
Or maybe I did, but wanted certainty.
He who seeks to help you can only create interference.
In fact, he is not different from interference.
I cannot stress enough that authority does not exist.
You know nothing other than yourself. And you barely know that.
Unfortunately, you’ll never find a more egotistical bunch than the “enlightened” and truth seekers.
Location: Phuket, Thailand
Sub: Anger
Alternative title: Easy, Tiger
—
Words, oh words, will you suffice?
Sometimes you suffice. This is true.
Well, let the fingers do the talking.
I got some thoughts about anger. I got some thoughts about hypocrisy, and violence, and ego.
In the Jungle now. Sorta. You know I wouldn’t go that far. I’m not that crazy.
But I’m crazy enough to desire the darkest nights, the loudest rains, to wake in the AM in witness of gutters broken and trenches freshly carved.
dim it all the way down so i can’t see myself
can’t see over my shoulder, nothing to whine about
nothing to, tell you to shut up about
no complaints, nothing to paint
over the cracks, white wash
scrub off all the past, wouldn’t even know it
didn’t even know it
all i write is trash
i just wanna make sense of something
just wanna communicate to you
that im alive
that i feel
that i care and that i don’t
that you can figure it all out and it don’t mean a thing
who cares if one is suffering?
It’s about independence. It’s about sovereignty. It’s about ruthlessness. It’s about peace. It’s about suffering. It’s about truth. It’s about lies. It’s about, I don’t need you to know what it’s about. It’s about–none of this. I don’t–do you know what it’s about?