Reaching out beyond the dream of what you thought was real, spinning on this ball of life, head now under heel. Ready to die, to live this life so raw, alive on ledge- dancing, hurling, freeing your soul to finally stretch the edge.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Ramblings beneath the moon.

What, I asked the stars, is love actually like?

"Receive all that is new, like a child does," came the whispered answer.

One time when I asked, Buddha told me that love does not flatter to deceive.

He was tapping his foot and rubbing his chin, looking somewhat miffed that this answer had to be repeated. 

But then any two loves differ as much as any two stars or snowflakes. There's nothing all that deep about it.

The problem with answers is that they limit you to a definition. Don't blow out the candle. Let it burn. Even stars don't seek to persevere, for then they couldn't be blistering balls of flaming energy.

So what's the point of all of this? Damn question. Shhhh...don't answer. A definition could definitely blow this one.


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