January 6, 2012

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    Depression has no mass. It cannot be lifted up, put down, or shifted in space. It just hemorrhages away your ability to perceive, to sense. It hemorrhages away your vitality to the place where gone is.

    Flow, flowing gone, taking with it the definition of advanced beings: desire, emotions, color. I've lost my senses and regressed into a clover with standard three leaves or maybe even less. It matters not. There is no care in a clover, not even need. Just follow nature's rules. A clover greens and grows whether it wants to or not, but it cannot want, be happy, sad, or jealous anyway.

    I can be a clover. Follow nature's rules and drink water and be. I can do that. Drink and be.

    Clovers are not individuals; they're faultless.

    Today, I'm faultless.