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Buoy the population of the soul
Toward their destination before they drown
~ Robert Pinsky
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Monday, 5. August 2002

Gaint


To be a giant. This has forever been our passion, this desire to be a giant Not to stand on one¡¯s shoulders or have one for a friend. Those these may be fortunate things. But to be one. Giants step over barriers that seem never ending. They conquer mountains that appear insurmountable. Giants rise above fear. Triumph over pain. Push themselves and inspire others.

To be a Giant. To do Giant things. To take Giant steps. To move the world forward.




Collected Noise

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apres Vipassana



After doing Vipassana, watching myself and watching sensations raise and fall within my body. So much calmness now in this silence, I can still feel electric pulses of atoms on my skin, sensations raising and passing away. Love fills the heart that was full of fear and sorrow. Rediscovering the purpose of life and seeking a purpose to this life, I go out and walk strong, in still equimanity confident that consciousness or god whatever is the word for the wordless is keeping the whole world in a balance. It makes practical sense now, the wisdom that says "What you don't want, that too you shall get!" Now, at this moment there is no rejection of things or situations. I sit still. Waves raise and fall, over the skin, becoming whole filling with love and joy.




My Daily Notes

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Bluebird - Charles Bukowski


there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I'm not going to let anybody see you.

there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I pur whiskey on him and inhale cigarette smoke and the whores and the bartenders and the grocery clerks never know that he's in there.

there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too tough for him, I say, stay down, do you want to mess me up? you want to screw up the works? you want to blow my book sales in Europe?

there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too clever, I only let him out at night sometimes when everybody's asleep. I say, I know that you're there, so don't be sad. then I put him back, but he's singing a little in there, I haven't quite let him die and we sleep together like that with our secret pact and it's nice enough to make a man weep, but I don't weep, do you?




Big Book Of Poetry

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