Stuff and junk from my world view that finds an outlet in written form. My own personal hell shared with you. For your infotainment. All activity is performed without adult supervision.

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Methadone kiss

I've heard from some people that I'm detached from reality. That I have my own reality. What I would like to know is, whose reality are they living in? Why do they have to push their realities on me? How do people grow up to be who they are and what they are? (By the way people don't know the difference between "real" and "tangible".) In my opinion everyone has their own reality. What bothers me is that the majority of people believe in the reality of others and don't live their own reality. Who in the first place thought that life should be ran in a certain way? In this particular way that we live in right now.


I've been thinking a lot about; "The only journey you take in life that you can't talk about." Do I really have some purpose? So many people in the world do I make a differnce? Nobody listens to me anyway. Maybe I have no soul.

No, I'm not suicidal, just an observation. I feel very detached about turning 23.

Letting go of past regrets and sorrows is difficult. Best to take it a step at a time. Pain reminds us that we are alive.


A Zen monk and his disciple were walking down the sidewalk when they encountered a pretty young woman. the woman could not cross the street because of a rather large puddle in the way. The monk then offered to carry the young woman across the street. The monk then carried the woman, walked in the puddle and put the woman down on the other sidewalk. Then after, he and his disciple went on their way. Later, the disciple was bothered by the monk's break in decorum. So he asked the monk ; " Why did you carry the woman isn't it against the teachings to be with women?" The monk then replied to his disciple; " Why, are you still carrying her?"


Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home