شويه, شويه

it's the only way to find higher ground

blesses abound :')

Kamala.

No, Samana, I am not afraid. Has a Samana or a Brahmin ever feared that someone could come and strike him and rob him of his knowledge, of his piety, of his power for depth of thought? No, because they belong to himself, and he can only give of them what he wishes, and if he wishes. That is exactly how it is with Kamala and with the pleasures of love. Fair and red are Kamala's lips, but try to kiss them against Kamala's will, and not one drop of sweetness will you obtain from them- although they know well how to give sweetness. You are an apt pupil, Siddhartha, so learn also this. One can beg, buy, be presented with and find love in the streets, but it can never be stolen. You have misunderstood. Yes, it would be a pity if a fine young man like you misunderstood.

"Maybe," said Siddhartha wearily, "I am like you. You cannot love either, otherwise how could you practice love as an art? Perhaps people like us cannot love. Ordinary people can - that is their secret."

Siddhartha said:

-- What could I say to you that would be of value, except that perhaps you seek too much, that as a result of your seeking you cannot find.

-- How is that? asked Govinda

-- When someone is seeking, said Siddhartha, it happens quite easily that he only sees the thing that he is seeking; that he is unable to find anything, unable to absorb anything, because he is only thinking of the thing he is seeking, because he has a goal, because he is obsessed with his goal. Seeking means: to have a goal; but finding means: to be free, to be receptive, to have no goal. You, O worthy one, are perhaps indeed a seeker, for in striving towards your goal, you do not see many things that are under your nose.

on communicating outside of the inside of your brain

it's like you're having this conversation about him with yourself for a few hours and you bring him in in middle
it can be confusing
(y)

breath

it's as if i'm writing from years later so far along over oceans and dead grassy hills and bare, flat mountains

why did i get here? why did i get here?

walk along this pebbled road with its rare sweetness but deep deep airlessness of the white gray sky on a day before friday in autumn

c