My body is bound by fate
My senses informed by time
Things naturally find their mate
These words fall together in rhyme
Searching implies a missing piece
But not all cracks are broken
The sky is unharmed by geese
Silence allows words to be spoken
Post by gplewis
if you're reading it, it's for you https://thelastpsychiatrist.com/2014/03/who_can_know_how_much_randi_zu.html
What the chain says
- Block
- 667 024
- Time
- 2020-12-24T22:27:24Z
- Signer
- 1KzWyQCKVvDdotmgjQKzdmUUpGXhMbMbp7
- App
- twetch
- Type
- post
- Content type
- text/plain
Fields the transaction did not carry are omitted. Open the payload to see the bytes as stored.
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1KzWyQCKVvDdotmgjQKzdmUUpGXhMbMbp7 VerifiedReplies (3)
what we may be obsessed with is the search for the root cause of our suffering, our detachment or clinging to the dream that we can find the opening and suture it closed...maybe the desire to be 'done' is the thing to cure ~ or the fear that it'll end
it's like the iPhone forces a justice that is foreign to man's deep programming
let me see what I might mean...
a man need's two women: a quiet homemaker and a thrilling nymph
(so said the poet Iris Murdoch)
iPhones reveal to you your flaws
maybe what we've lost with iPhones is the freedom to be flawed: they will show you everything 'wrong' that does not sort neatly into a hierarchy or category...and there is endless brokenness in any attention span
so do we just keep posting our darkness?