my brother busted me in the head and broke his hand after I drug him out of bed saying I would not tolerate drunkenness in my sanctuary
we wrestled and nearly broke my guitar and could have broken more had my mother not intervened
some people sit in mental towers built on spiritual fabrications surrounded by the scaffolding of air-conditioned comfort and a malaise of convenience and entertainment
I've sat in that tower (probably still do) but the walls come crumbling down when the blow strikes your head
suffering isn't just an issue of identity or misperception though the ones in the tower would have you believe that
suffering is a bundle of behavior that gets expressed in a continuum of movements seeking to align themselves with the gravity of unity
if love is the power of all emotions, then suffering is the skin that gets shed to let the love shine with full potential
broken hands, busted heads, and shed skin... and the trail of life keeps blazing.
Forgive the crudeness
Posted - Nov 04 2012 : 11:09:32 PM
