Monday, March 6, 2017

From the Blake(and Jim Morrison. And Ray Manzarek).

When the doors of perception are cleansed....

enlightened realizations?  an epiphany each and every moment?

or do you just know too much?

Ever wish you didn't know something-a something firmly wedged inside your head, troubling, haunting?  Perplexed and psychotic, pointing your wood at the wrong things, scattered intentions, like straws in the wind.

The Lizard King lamented, or perhaps just mockingly noted American hospitality.

These and other matters, I attend to continually.  Not opening my own perception.  My perception is already too wide.  I get like an entire star field on my scope and lack the capacity to zoom.  So it's difficult to appreciate the one, I wot.

Human suffering is fleeting.  Every stone on the earth will outlast that much, friends.  We, as mortals, are fleeting, and our waters will eventually drain out of us leaving only a smattering of stinky dust.

So we are, without our lifewaters, stinky dust.  You heard it here first.

How the hell does anything ever get done around here?

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