I'm starting work at Cora's tomorrow. In at 8am every day for the rest of the week.
I've got no qualms with an income. Drum kit, guitar and bass lessons, all swell. I think i'll be happy to be working. It's surprisingly difficult staying content when there's nothing to do at all times. It sounds perfect... all i have to do are things i want to do; read, write, music. But there's still times when i'm bored. Times i'm unhappy. Times i don't have any drive. Those times are all the more distressing, because i'm supposed to be surrounded by things i love. If i can't be happy and productive when all i have is joyful hobbies to fill my time, then maybe i'm a lost cause. Maybe i'll be more fit to work for an employer, who necessarily earns more from my existance than he has to pay me. I'll put music on the side of my plate. Maybe if i seperate it from 'work', it'll have to be 'play', and the productivity and drive will return to normal levels.
Any cause for happiness has a downside. Anything that makes life easier makes it less productive. Anything that makes us angry teaches us to grow and adapt. Life keeps happening. Maybe getting a job will help me be a better me. Maybe not. No knowledge. No complaints. Turn the page and sharpen your pencil.
I am a songwriter, but i'm also a dishwasher. Dishwashing will pay my bills.
Am i wrong to think that i have to abandon all work except music to see if it keeps me afloat? I think if i had to survive off music, i could. I'd have to go west (where it's warmer winters) and busk like my life depended on it. Note: my life would genuinely depend on it.
Am i working as hard now as i would be if i needed to sing for my supper? I know my ideals. I don't think it's wrong to believe that i'm still putting in good hours. But GAHD.... i know i could work harder. I always could be working harder.
Love you.
simon
Their dishwasher had gone home, because a babysitter didn't show up, i was asked to start work immediately. I put in three hours, and got paid in cash, went home with a uniform.
Look at me, eh? All working and junk.
Also work related, i've been busking up a storm with the mandolin. An hour and change for the past three days. It's fun as heck. On this here internet i've picked up chords for method acting, let's not shit ourselves, and bowl of oranges. I mostly have been busking bright eyes. It's enjoyable.
Happy birthday, Aine. You'll never be as old as me. I love you.
Old aughtn't be measured in years, come to think of it. It's a state of mind. Sometimes i feel mature in my ability to appreciate childlike pleasures. Most times i would just say that i feel young. It took me a long time of personal reflection to feel this young, however. There's alot of kids that are too uptight. Some adults, Dalai Lama included (and i'd like to suggest most masters of ancient ways), have a very childlike persona. Age, age, age, age, age.
Tangents, without them, we'd never get anywhere.
Busking, employment, moving home... sounds like somebody is fixing up to own a kit.
Woozle Wuzzle.
I'm home, doing laundry. Watching Sportcenter. Soon, i will type up a resume and get it to Cora's. It's a noice little breakfast shop about three blocks from home.
It'll be weird to work again. Last time i worked was a year ago.
My justification work working is toys that i want. I want a drum kit.
Aaaaugh fuckitall. I don't want to work, i don't need to work. I can sit on the street and play chords and write poems and eat at the soup kitchen. I don't need to do anything.
That's one side of things anyway, certainly a part of me. Luckily, there's other parts. I am gonna kill at drums. I am gonna play everything extremely well.
I'm moving back home at the start of september. I might have a little bit of money at the time.
What do you do when you're not happy with your friends?
You imagine that you are happy with your friends, and watch as time replaces them to match your imaginings.
I'm almost ready to die. I'd just like seventy five more years of the same. It's hardish, rewardingish. I get doses of good and bad feeling. Is the past the same as the future?
I want to stop wanting. My ideals are self contradictory.
Sometimes i'm there, though.
*WHACK* [hits stick on the ground]
Sometimes i'm there.
Poco a poco, no?
I'm not sure where i'll be in the fall. I think if i open all doors and windows and wait for something to take me away then i should be fine.
I think i've mentioned before my inability to do things under my own will. Something about my desires being selfish and an inability to trust myself. I had a thought that if i can believe that i've already asked god what i aught to do with my life, and he has already answered, then deep down i know whether i'm making good or bad actions. If i'm doing what god wants then it's good. If i'm doing what i want, then it's bad. A little simple, unfortionately. I could say that i want what god wants. I would say that i can never know what god wants.
I'm currently riding with the idea that if i'm on the right path then i will be rewarded with a clear mind. If my mind gets muddled then there's probably something clashing with the natural flow of my life.
I think i've got a pretty clear mind. Good morning everyone. Love bad people.
simon
And that simple idea is intended to prove that idleness has a simple cure. It's not hard to come up with something i wish i knew. It's not hard to take one step towards that new knowledge. Librairies.
What is hard?
It's hard when you are afraid to do something you think you should do.
It is hard when you are disinterested in doing something you think you should do.
The worst part of being in university was that there were always things i should have been doing. There is always assignments, there is always studying. Education is supposed to be my passion. If i wanted nothing more than to do well at school, it would've been perfect. I would've read the texts, i would've worked on assignments, i would've learned alot. Been successful.
But i didn't want to learn, i wanted to know. I didn't want to study, i wanted to graduate. I didn't want the path, i wanted the destination.
I almost got used to living in the prelude to real life.
Where is perfection?
When is perfection?
I would imagine that writing on a piece of paper, "Perfection is here and now" and underlining it, would do one's mental self a little bitta good. I was told once that writing one's name and underlining it is benificial to self esteem. I've once written two pages of "I envy no one", line by line.
If you write things for only your eyes it is easy to find the voice of honesty. Only when honesty is consistant is anyone fit to write for others.
Only now
or only later
you decide
your lucky day.
I am what you need from me.
I am nothing.
Not all parents know how to love. This is unfortionate. Take a deep breath. Love bad people. Breathe again. Hang your head into the pull of gravity. It is begging to roll off. Fall under the pressure of a world that is infinitely stronger than you, infinitely more influential that you, and completely uninterested in your desires.
Hang your head. Love bad people. Do the best you can. Love bad people.
Love bad people.
like simon
I don't know what's best for me. I don't know what's best for you.
That said, it should be safe to say that the future is fine to take care of itself. I have a lot of respect for simplicity. Taking life day by day, and making the most of things.
But what am i doing here? I'm unemployed. Spending monies on food and drug; spending time on stringed instruments and philosophy. I think i've gotta make a move. It's just hard. I don't like exercising the control i have over my life. I am positively in love with 'letting' things happen.
Maybe i've let myself find the drive to get away. Maybe if i stay, out of a will to not do anything, it is a forced stay, and that is using more control than following my whimsical whims of come and go.
I've had a lot of fun with my last four posts. Tossing in fragments of poetry when my sentance structure or dialogue minds run out of air. Keeping a high pace of thought. Fro and to.
Wrapped tight in promise.
Sentanced to life.
Forever until i choose to change.
Gah! I've never chosen to change.
I am not the guide.
I am not mine.
But these restrictions are of my own design.
I'm only as trapped as i think i am.
In a cave with no light.
My thoughts still fly to far off lands.
If i could tie me to a chair
My body's here, my thoughts are there.
My body cares not if it's free.
mind cannot be held by me.
To suggest i've lost my reach
simply cause my home repeats
is to suggest my lovely soul
sits in my head, can't touch it all.
And that's just not the case. I could sit in a sewer for 20 years, survive off molds and dews, and i am certain my mind would reach thoughts many times more mad, more wild, than a life on surface would necessarily provide me.
I'm trying to say that regardless of where i am, my mind is capable of everything. And the only things i want for my body are means to practice communication. I have those means. Those stringed things. I'm gonna finish my coffee, grab a smoke and walk home.
All i've gotta do is talk to myself for a little while, and i'm okay. This is my world. It's as easy as i want it to be. I made it this way.
Love.
simon
Addicted to love, my friends. And i don't mean sexy in-and-out love. I thirst for compassion, understanding, respect. I want you to relate to me. I want you to understand that i'm doing my best. I've heard enough of eastern philosophy to know that wanting is wrong. I can't help it. I'm born under a sun of solitude. The vastness of my soul experiences a lifelong removal from the self-same vastness of the world i reside in. I want to return to everything. So long as I am One, i will be no help to you. Try your best to not see me as 'other'. Love me hard.
If i could hike up the mountains of Taiwan to meet and ask questions of a head monk today i would ask the following:
Dear sir, the point of nothingness is stressed in the east. If we each can remove thought, than we remove our personal desires, and we can achieve our nothing self. We can exist in the land before thought, where subject, object and experience are one. Living not through chosen actions, but through our reactions. Under the guidance of greater hands.
Get to the point, young man. Your regurgitation is nauseating. Your desire for respect is apparent.
Uh... sorr... OK, i mean, is it better for those around you to try to become your nothing self, or to leave them. It seems to me that if you leave then you literally become nothing. That's the goal, right? To leave people to their own devices?
When nothing self is achieved, you are as still water is. People may see their reflection in you. Some may be angered when they see their reflection, but this is the best way to help others realize their Buddha selves.
Then why do all the greatest and clearest minds remove themselves from society? Why do you, sir, reside up here in the mountains where the people you help are few and far between?
Look to sky,
to heaven reach,
for if you bend
to help the weak
you might lose sight
of what you've seen.
It might seem false
to choose your self
instead of work
for other's health
but whom would god
place 'bove all else?
blind child falls
don't heed his cries
for when he's dried
his cloudy eyes
he's born anew
as one, he'll rise.
If you choose
to help the weak
your self: above
you'll both believe.
when all as equal
it should seem.
Well jesus, that sounds a little extreme.
You say it's wrong to lend a hand?
Compassion lives; God's gift to man.
If weak believe this world is void
of help, they'll not be overjoyed.
If trust in others is a goal
than helping hands can feed both souls.
My internet time is expired. My conflicts are not. Return to nothing self. Prejudgement. Pre right and wrong. Pre thought. Vonnegut. Dostoevsky. Joseph.
xo
simon
It's a good life if you don't weaken.
But i'm weak.
I see
through challenges i've drawn to me.
Far from
ready
for bliss's generous release.
from laboured
breathing
running time and pumping hearts
i stay
with me
rudely asking when life starts.
We're often looking to the future, are we not? You probably know the future i'm talking about. The one where life is good. Where we've got everything we've always wanted. Where we're busy with labours of love. Where we're recognized for the hard work and patience we've put into living. For some of us, this time is coming soon. For some of us it's in the distant future [pre-career dreams of retirement, i.e.]
Oddly enough, some of us (although unlikely anyone reading this) can recognize a time in the past when everything was perfect. Of course it's unlikely they felt wrapped in perfection during the entirety of those years, months, or days. It's just the impression of life's potential for perfection. The mind says, "if i had this, this, and this, then i'd be perfectly happy."
How many people will look into the lines of their empty hands and say "this is perfection"?
I think it would take a lot of strength to be upset and say, "perfection is still at work." We're not always happy. We don't always want things to be the way they are.
But gosh darn it, we should.
I don't think too much study is necessary to figure out that none of us are X dollars away from permanent happiness. Maybe permanent happiness doesn't exist, and temporary sensual joys are all that we humans have to aim towards.
I think that temporary sensual joys are quite nice. I think that being happy with nothing is something to aim towards. Being happy with what you have is a good first step.
I'm not fit to be your spiritual guide. I'm barely qualified to be my own, and only have the position due to a lack of applications. The sun. Silence. Ohm. Jaja.
I'm looking at work in Banff. I think it'd be a worthwhile move. I don't want to stay in the same place. I don't want to be who i am, and if i get out of my surroundings, then my new surroundings are likely to change me.
It's easy. Just keep getting rid of all that i am, and watch myself be reborn. Tons more exciting and respectable than loving who i am and wanting to remain that way.
I'm not as good as i think i am. But if i meet some brand new kids, i can probably deceive them. I am what you think of me. I am exactly what you think of me.
What am i, but the product of your love? Y'know? If yesterday's stranger loves me tomorrow than i have improved to the core. I'm not what i think i am, that's for sure. If we were all what we thought we were, we'd have to live in different planes. We just wouldn't line up properly, would we? Our opinions of ourselves change too fast.
But if i'm only what the world thinks of me, than little by little i have to impress you buggers until you all think i'm lovable, gifted, inspired, and [possibly least likely] hard-working.
If everyone on earth believes it, then it must be true.
but afterlife?
probably not.
That's surely born
of my own thought.
Cause thoughts you hold
will stay the same
you won't think me
to different planes.
you can't lift me
to deeper sky
not while you're here
watching me die
i'll keep my thought
open for change
once lost i'll find
what leads the way.
leave it to me.
simon
I've got no qualms with an income. Drum kit, guitar and bass lessons, all swell. I think i'll be happy to be working. It's surprisingly difficult staying content when there's nothing to do at all times. It sounds perfect... all i have to do are things i want to do; read, write, music. But there's still times when i'm bored. Times i'm unhappy. Times i don't have any drive. Those times are all the more distressing, because i'm supposed to be surrounded by things i love. If i can't be happy and productive when all i have is joyful hobbies to fill my time, then maybe i'm a lost cause. Maybe i'll be more fit to work for an employer, who necessarily earns more from my existance than he has to pay me. I'll put music on the side of my plate. Maybe if i seperate it from 'work', it'll have to be 'play', and the productivity and drive will return to normal levels.
Any cause for happiness has a downside. Anything that makes life easier makes it less productive. Anything that makes us angry teaches us to grow and adapt. Life keeps happening. Maybe getting a job will help me be a better me. Maybe not. No knowledge. No complaints. Turn the page and sharpen your pencil.
I am a songwriter, but i'm also a dishwasher. Dishwashing will pay my bills.
Am i wrong to think that i have to abandon all work except music to see if it keeps me afloat? I think if i had to survive off music, i could. I'd have to go west (where it's warmer winters) and busk like my life depended on it. Note: my life would genuinely depend on it.
Am i working as hard now as i would be if i needed to sing for my supper? I know my ideals. I don't think it's wrong to believe that i'm still putting in good hours. But GAHD.... i know i could work harder. I always could be working harder.
Love you.
simon
I went into cora's yesterday to check in on my resume. My phone is dead and the charger is missing, so it was my best bet at communication.
Their dishwasher had gone home, because a babysitter didn't show up, i was asked to start work immediately. I put in three hours, and got paid in cash, went home with a uniform.
Look at me, eh? All working and junk.
Also work related, i've been busking up a storm with the mandolin. An hour and change for the past three days. It's fun as heck. On this here internet i've picked up chords for method acting, let's not shit ourselves, and bowl of oranges. I mostly have been busking bright eyes. It's enjoyable.
Happy birthday, Aine. You'll never be as old as me. I love you.
Old aughtn't be measured in years, come to think of it. It's a state of mind. Sometimes i feel mature in my ability to appreciate childlike pleasures. Most times i would just say that i feel young. It took me a long time of personal reflection to feel this young, however. There's alot of kids that are too uptight. Some adults, Dalai Lama included (and i'd like to suggest most masters of ancient ways), have a very childlike persona. Age, age, age, age, age.
Tangents, without them, we'd never get anywhere.
Busking, employment, moving home... sounds like somebody is fixing up to own a kit.
Woozle Wuzzle.
Good afternoon.
I'm home, doing laundry. Watching Sportcenter. Soon, i will type up a resume and get it to Cora's. It's a noice little breakfast shop about three blocks from home.
It'll be weird to work again. Last time i worked was a year ago.
My justification work working is toys that i want. I want a drum kit.
Aaaaugh fuckitall. I don't want to work, i don't need to work. I can sit on the street and play chords and write poems and eat at the soup kitchen. I don't need to do anything.
That's one side of things anyway, certainly a part of me. Luckily, there's other parts. I am gonna kill at drums. I am gonna play everything extremely well.
I'm moving back home at the start of september. I might have a little bit of money at the time.
What do you do when you're not happy with your friends?
You imagine that you are happy with your friends, and watch as time replaces them to match your imaginings.
I'm almost ready to die. I'd just like seventy five more years of the same. It's hardish, rewardingish. I get doses of good and bad feeling. Is the past the same as the future?
I want to stop wanting. My ideals are self contradictory.
Sometimes i'm there, though.
*WHACK* [hits stick on the ground]
Sometimes i'm there.
I bought some notebooks today. 140 pages, coiled, Hilroy. One blue, one red. These are to be my spanish and french notebooks. I am to write in them every day. I am to build my understanding of french and spanish.
Poco a poco, no?
I'm not sure where i'll be in the fall. I think if i open all doors and windows and wait for something to take me away then i should be fine.
I think i've mentioned before my inability to do things under my own will. Something about my desires being selfish and an inability to trust myself. I had a thought that if i can believe that i've already asked god what i aught to do with my life, and he has already answered, then deep down i know whether i'm making good or bad actions. If i'm doing what god wants then it's good. If i'm doing what i want, then it's bad. A little simple, unfortionately. I could say that i want what god wants. I would say that i can never know what god wants.
I'm currently riding with the idea that if i'm on the right path then i will be rewarded with a clear mind. If my mind gets muddled then there's probably something clashing with the natural flow of my life.
I think i've got a pretty clear mind. Good morning everyone. Love bad people.
simon
If my last two librairy visits have anything to say about it, Simon is going to learn french.
And that simple idea is intended to prove that idleness has a simple cure. It's not hard to come up with something i wish i knew. It's not hard to take one step towards that new knowledge. Librairies.
What is hard?
It's hard when you are afraid to do something you think you should do.
It is hard when you are disinterested in doing something you think you should do.
The worst part of being in university was that there were always things i should have been doing. There is always assignments, there is always studying. Education is supposed to be my passion. If i wanted nothing more than to do well at school, it would've been perfect. I would've read the texts, i would've worked on assignments, i would've learned alot. Been successful.
But i didn't want to learn, i wanted to know. I didn't want to study, i wanted to graduate. I didn't want the path, i wanted the destination.
I almost got used to living in the prelude to real life.
Where is perfection?
When is perfection?
I would imagine that writing on a piece of paper, "Perfection is here and now" and underlining it, would do one's mental self a little bitta good. I was told once that writing one's name and underlining it is benificial to self esteem. I've once written two pages of "I envy no one", line by line.
If you write things for only your eyes it is easy to find the voice of honesty. Only when honesty is consistant is anyone fit to write for others.
Only now
or only later
you decide
your lucky day.
I am what you need from me.
I am nothing.
Not all parents know how to love. This is unfortionate. Take a deep breath. Love bad people. Breathe again. Hang your head into the pull of gravity. It is begging to roll off. Fall under the pressure of a world that is infinitely stronger than you, infinitely more influential that you, and completely uninterested in your desires.
Hang your head. Love bad people. Do the best you can. Love bad people.
Love bad people.
like simon
I've got a problem with doing things.
I don't know what's best for me. I don't know what's best for you.
That said, it should be safe to say that the future is fine to take care of itself. I have a lot of respect for simplicity. Taking life day by day, and making the most of things.
But what am i doing here? I'm unemployed. Spending monies on food and drug; spending time on stringed instruments and philosophy. I think i've gotta make a move. It's just hard. I don't like exercising the control i have over my life. I am positively in love with 'letting' things happen.
Maybe i've let myself find the drive to get away. Maybe if i stay, out of a will to not do anything, it is a forced stay, and that is using more control than following my whimsical whims of come and go.
I've had a lot of fun with my last four posts. Tossing in fragments of poetry when my sentance structure or dialogue minds run out of air. Keeping a high pace of thought. Fro and to.
Wrapped tight in promise.
Sentanced to life.
Forever until i choose to change.
Gah! I've never chosen to change.
I am not the guide.
I am not mine.
But these restrictions are of my own design.
I'm only as trapped as i think i am.
In a cave with no light.
My thoughts still fly to far off lands.
If i could tie me to a chair
My body's here, my thoughts are there.
My body cares not if it's free.
mind cannot be held by me.
To suggest i've lost my reach
simply cause my home repeats
is to suggest my lovely soul
sits in my head, can't touch it all.
And that's just not the case. I could sit in a sewer for 20 years, survive off molds and dews, and i am certain my mind would reach thoughts many times more mad, more wild, than a life on surface would necessarily provide me.
I'm trying to say that regardless of where i am, my mind is capable of everything. And the only things i want for my body are means to practice communication. I have those means. Those stringed things. I'm gonna finish my coffee, grab a smoke and walk home.
All i've gotta do is talk to myself for a little while, and i'm okay. This is my world. It's as easy as i want it to be. I made it this way.
Love.
simon
My name is simon and i am an addict.
Addicted to love, my friends. And i don't mean sexy in-and-out love. I thirst for compassion, understanding, respect. I want you to relate to me. I want you to understand that i'm doing my best. I've heard enough of eastern philosophy to know that wanting is wrong. I can't help it. I'm born under a sun of solitude. The vastness of my soul experiences a lifelong removal from the self-same vastness of the world i reside in. I want to return to everything. So long as I am One, i will be no help to you. Try your best to not see me as 'other'. Love me hard.
If i could hike up the mountains of Taiwan to meet and ask questions of a head monk today i would ask the following:
Dear sir, the point of nothingness is stressed in the east. If we each can remove thought, than we remove our personal desires, and we can achieve our nothing self. We can exist in the land before thought, where subject, object and experience are one. Living not through chosen actions, but through our reactions. Under the guidance of greater hands.
Get to the point, young man. Your regurgitation is nauseating. Your desire for respect is apparent.
Uh... sorr... OK, i mean, is it better for those around you to try to become your nothing self, or to leave them. It seems to me that if you leave then you literally become nothing. That's the goal, right? To leave people to their own devices?
When nothing self is achieved, you are as still water is. People may see their reflection in you. Some may be angered when they see their reflection, but this is the best way to help others realize their Buddha selves.
Then why do all the greatest and clearest minds remove themselves from society? Why do you, sir, reside up here in the mountains where the people you help are few and far between?
Look to sky,
to heaven reach,
for if you bend
to help the weak
you might lose sight
of what you've seen.
It might seem false
to choose your self
instead of work
for other's health
but whom would god
place 'bove all else?
blind child falls
don't heed his cries
for when he's dried
his cloudy eyes
he's born anew
as one, he'll rise.
If you choose
to help the weak
your self: above
you'll both believe.
when all as equal
it should seem.
Well jesus, that sounds a little extreme.
You say it's wrong to lend a hand?
Compassion lives; God's gift to man.
If weak believe this world is void
of help, they'll not be overjoyed.
If trust in others is a goal
than helping hands can feed both souls.
My internet time is expired. My conflicts are not. Return to nothing self. Prejudgement. Pre right and wrong. Pre thought. Vonnegut. Dostoevsky. Joseph.
xo
simon
Ohmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
It's a good life if you don't weaken.
But i'm weak.
I see
through challenges i've drawn to me.
Far from
ready
for bliss's generous release.
from laboured
breathing
running time and pumping hearts
i stay
with me
rudely asking when life starts.
We're often looking to the future, are we not? You probably know the future i'm talking about. The one where life is good. Where we've got everything we've always wanted. Where we're busy with labours of love. Where we're recognized for the hard work and patience we've put into living. For some of us, this time is coming soon. For some of us it's in the distant future [pre-career dreams of retirement, i.e.]
Oddly enough, some of us (although unlikely anyone reading this) can recognize a time in the past when everything was perfect. Of course it's unlikely they felt wrapped in perfection during the entirety of those years, months, or days. It's just the impression of life's potential for perfection. The mind says, "if i had this, this, and this, then i'd be perfectly happy."
How many people will look into the lines of their empty hands and say "this is perfection"?
I think it would take a lot of strength to be upset and say, "perfection is still at work." We're not always happy. We don't always want things to be the way they are.
But gosh darn it, we should.
I don't think too much study is necessary to figure out that none of us are X dollars away from permanent happiness. Maybe permanent happiness doesn't exist, and temporary sensual joys are all that we humans have to aim towards.
I think that temporary sensual joys are quite nice. I think that being happy with nothing is something to aim towards. Being happy with what you have is a good first step.
I'm not fit to be your spiritual guide. I'm barely qualified to be my own, and only have the position due to a lack of applications. The sun. Silence. Ohm. Jaja.
Labels for this post: Scooters, Vacation, Fall.
I'm looking at work in Banff. I think it'd be a worthwhile move. I don't want to stay in the same place. I don't want to be who i am, and if i get out of my surroundings, then my new surroundings are likely to change me.
It's easy. Just keep getting rid of all that i am, and watch myself be reborn. Tons more exciting and respectable than loving who i am and wanting to remain that way.
I'm not as good as i think i am. But if i meet some brand new kids, i can probably deceive them. I am what you think of me. I am exactly what you think of me.
What am i, but the product of your love? Y'know? If yesterday's stranger loves me tomorrow than i have improved to the core. I'm not what i think i am, that's for sure. If we were all what we thought we were, we'd have to live in different planes. We just wouldn't line up properly, would we? Our opinions of ourselves change too fast.
But if i'm only what the world thinks of me, than little by little i have to impress you buggers until you all think i'm lovable, gifted, inspired, and [possibly least likely] hard-working.
If everyone on earth believes it, then it must be true.
but afterlife?
probably not.
That's surely born
of my own thought.
Cause thoughts you hold
will stay the same
you won't think me
to different planes.
you can't lift me
to deeper sky
not while you're here
watching me die
i'll keep my thought
open for change
once lost i'll find
what leads the way.
leave it to me.
simon