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Yoseatsume Blues

Part 9


Instant Karma!

Laughing Bull: Swimming bird, do you know what your body is made from?

Swimming Bird: I don't know

Laughing Bull: Probably some bird droppings rolling around somewhere. Swimming bird, do you know what your soul is made from?

Swimming Bird: I don't know. Probably some dust ball rolling around somewhere

Laughing Bull: That answer is wrong, and it is correct. Your body is connected to the entire universe, yet it can only be for you. Your soul contains the entire universe, yet it can only exist within you. That is for me and for everyone. If you hate someone, you hate yourself. If you love someone, you love yourself.

Swimming Bird: I don't feel anything towards anyone

Laughing Bull: That is the greatest misfortune in this world



It feels like most times a balancing act on this thin line called existence. Consistently between two different extremes. Fascination, doubt, intrigue, wariness, hope, and despair. Everything in between is monumental yet fleeting. Our place possibly fixed in an eternal recurrence. Where one should live so that one wants to have nothing different, not forward, not backward, not in all eternity. Maybe as a result of the drought of originality spent up by timeless attempts in the cycle, but the wonders of it all and our undeniable attraction to it prove that thread impossible. Maybe an exit or alternate lens where one could conceive the inconceivable despite the limitations of perspective. Still, however, split between two different extremes in an agonizingly wonderful balancing act, in naked viewing to the other. What can and should it be? Throwing ourselves to the limitless experiences, avenues, and queries on it or situating ourselves as admirers in the open sea welcoming wave after wave. The balance remains, I guess.

Can this be whatever we desire it to be?

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