pocket change…

There are things I don’t have any business thinking about. If I started thinking about them now I’d just wind up in an alley somewhere with something I don’t know how to deal with.

I try to keep a lid on it.

If someone asks me whether they should kill off their ego I say,

…I don’t know. If you want to kill something, go kill one of your opinions. Kill the Buddha, if you see him.

One time a so-called friend came charging at me ON MY OWN DAMN HORSE. She figured I’d jump out of the way, but my macho genes kicked in and I stood there. Just before she ran me over, my horse locked up the brakes and smart-ass did a somersault right between my horse’s ears and landed in the dirt, on her butt, at my feet.

Very, very sweet.

That happens to me. I start hollerin at strangers like I know what the fuck’s going on, and… BAM! somersault between the ears.

A message flashes on the screen: Go write “I am still in kindergarten” ten thousand times.

Then for a while my practice feels like penance.

Krishna told Arjuna that his mind could be his best friend or his worst enemy.

As long as I can’t see perfectly clearly I’m bound to be at least a little wrong about pretty much everything.

If I lay here long enough, something will begin to crawl over me.

I empty my pockets out on the table, looking for a key.  There’s something there that says… Watch closely and keep asking yourself, Is that you?

~~~