When you feel low, think that this norm of standardized life, namely mechanical, is for those heartless. The forerunners' aphorisms have already tarnished, now just soot of rust. When you feel sort of cast out, think the notion of only-this-life and building it up is like adding further junks to be attached to then. Yes, adding junks isn't like a scavenger's desperate means to do so. The former junks sparkle. That's the magic you're after. I am leaving far, far away to a place infested only with wild sweet potatoes called dhoma in Tibetan.
No comments:
Post a Comment