To make a change in life,
you have to create an overwhelming desire for that change,
strong enough to overwhelm the force of habit.

Time wasted, by senseless pride,
..delaying the inevitable fall,
....delaying the glorious rise that follows.
......Postponing for years
........the predictable words
..........`I need you', `I want you',
............`I resent what you did', `You hurt me'.
............With each cycle of struggle and surrender,
..........we spiral inwards,
........closer to the truth,
......pretenses fall,
....angry tears fall,
..an angry child looks at the world
with a primal sense of wonder.

Bringing naturalness into complex behavior.
Synthesizing the Intellectual and the Natural.
Our task is to bring the divine into the intellectual.

When you sit alone, in a room with only white walls,
all you have left is the music of the stars.
It's a melody that never fails.
When you are climbing a smooth wall with nothing
to hold on to,
you cry and fall infinitely ,
you realize you have no choice.
but to surrender to the dull, sterile perfection
of the music of the stars.
In perfect blackness your cries are not heard,
and your anguish does not intrude on the music of the stars.
When you die your soul rises out of the ocean of your tears,
floating in the perfect peace of the music of the stars.

The things that with time have become dear to me;
words written on a crumpled page at a moment of despair,
unexpectedly transformed into beauty,
when the soul recognized for a moment how its journey is
leaving its unique mark on an eternal canvas.

A room where mundane lonely boring moments passed. Nothing but
a table, chair and a carpet, will be remembered as a
place of creation and rejuvenation; an important stop on a legendary journey.

A piece of music being heard again and again, without ever being fully grasped,
is understood in hindsight as a Zen koan, not meant to be figured out, but
just to lead the soul in a discovery of something else.

This unique story I am to live. This one reflection out of trillions I am assigned to be..
my truest nature is in that reflection.

My friend, how we are at the mercy of our emotions.
Sitting here alone I feel love towards you,
waiting to share warm and intimate moments with you.
But who knows what storm will be upon me when we actually meet.
I may very well be cold, distant and angry at you.
I wonder, is it pointless to try to gain any satisfaction from each other?
It seems inevitable that we only share dull empty moments.
That always one of us, if not both us, will be trapped in his inner agony when
we meet.
Could you help find the inspiration to fight this inner agony?
Can you convince me the light at the other end is worth the journey?
How will you convince a slave to revolt against his master?
Can you ensure him will be any happier when he is free?
Perhaps, he will endure a harsh battle, only to end up serving another master,
no better than the first?

The answer comes..
What is always worthwhile in this world?
Any expression of the pure mental qualities:
Strength, truth, love.

I think of my love everyday and
plan my conquest.
Meanwhile, of those who love me, I say
`why spend your time in a doomed battle?
My mind is set so rigidly. Your maneuvers at best scratch
its outer walls, yet you rejoice with every scratch inflicted.'
Why do we seek an impenetrable fortress, to hack at its walls for all our lives?
If we continue this way, in the lives to come we will be nothing but rocks and mountains.
To save our kingdom, a hero among us must volunteer to leave the fortress,
and be cut into pieces by the starved mob.
Their fire will be consumed. The whole world outside will be destroyed by that fire;
and that hero will be free forever.

I cry, you cry
everybody crying.

I die, you die
everybody dying.

I reach out, you reach out
everybody reaching out.

I miss, you miss
everybody missing.

I reach out to you,
only when I know you are reaching out to him.

You reach out to him,
only when you know he is reaching out to outer space.

You're in line, I'm in line,
everybody in line.

He's walking, She's walking,
everybody in the same direction.

1st in line falling into the abyss, 2nd falling into the abyss
everybody faithful.

I fear hell, you fear hell,
everybody fearful, everybody faithful.

I bribe the keeper of heaven's gate, you bribe the keeper of heaven's gate,
everybody greedy, everybody fearful, everybody faithful.

I want to be happy, you want to be happy.

I am happy when you are happy,
you are happy when he is happy.

Who will volunteer to be happy first?
Who will give up being faithful, fearful and greedy?

Wired in, we are at the mercy of the chains we created.
I ask for mercy. I ask for a miracle I do not deserve.

I am fed constantly, wired in, constant feedback.
Nothing new will ever be needed.
The matrix can survive forever.
It requires only the ability to react endlessly to the same
stimulus.
I don't dream of rain anymore, and am surprised that
tears of beauty can still fall from my cheeks.
Perhaps there is an essence that cannot be erased.
No sin can taint god.
Lengthening the journey by decillions of years does not shake
Nirvana.

An essence hidden by the time I get to the next line.
Feelings of eternity become meaningless after a second of anxiety.
Again, I try to stick the tubes deeper inside me. Eternity is just
abstract for me now, and I trade it for a second's relief.


I have heard of liberation, but have not witnessed something that
would make me give up the comforting matrix.

Is there something worthwhile between the lines?
I don't know and have no preferred answer at this moment.

At this moment I would give up the part of me asking the question.
`Why didn't I take the blue pill?'
`Like a splinter in my mind'
Forces in my mind take me one step to the left,
and then to the right.

No satisfaction,
in the crumbs I gather,
from your table,
that you missed in a moment of distraction.
I make them my main course,
and live like a hungry ghost,

Won't you give your heart completely ,
in this moment we share?
End a thousand years of hunger,
which I've been serving faithfully.

No satisfaction,
in the shadow of your beauty,
only a faint memory,
a copy of a copy

Won't you be with me completely,
in this moment we must share?
going on like hungry ghosts,
you share my sentence without need.

No satisfaction, in the crumbs I gather
from a shadow of the world I used to live in.
Lift me to a higher plane,
fill me with your attention,
You know we lift each other up.

`Come on to me, with all the life inside you,
I will give you what you need, I know by now I must.'

Life and death,
Blooming and decay,
at the same moment.

Maybe this reality is more beautiful than artificial perfection.
It does not presume to be invincible.
You cannot defeat it; as it does not try to defend anything
that can die.

Each form it lets you destroy has a firmer one behind it.
Thus, taking reality's side, you grow safer with each loss;
your joy more stable, your tears more pure, the music you hear sweeter.

Hands of gold,
anything he touched came from the gods
he had only to wish it clearly.
But so many veils made those clear moments rare.

Perhaps he lived for just one moment of clarity.
A flower that blooms and withers.
He is only a servant, and his existence is
only for performing one deed with perfection.