The mentality of automatically generated reflexes constitute functional artists
acutely aware of space and time and singularity and yet, the roundness of it begs all the squarest of pegs...and the dregs? Rest you here...

 

 

 

I    F   E   L   L     B   E   C   A   U   S   E    
 
  

 Manbird wrote: 
um... could those pix be a bit higher on that wall? yea. 

Laat je dromen werkelijkheid worden en neem het huis van je dromen ter waarde van 500.000 euro.

Een effectieve kans om het huis te winnen. Laat je vrienden je hierbij helpen. Iedereen kan meedoen!

Wat moet je hiervoor doen?
1. Wordt lid van deze groep
2. Nodig 20 vrienden uit om uw kans te verhogen.

OPGELET: Deze stap moet worden volbracht indien u wenst deel te nemen aan de trekking.

3. U zal een antwoord ontvangen wanneer we het nodige aantal leden hebben bereikt om door te gaan naar de...

 

"Show me where it hurts," God said,
and every cell in my body burst into tears before His tender eyes. - ~ Rab'ia ~

God is the Self of the world, but you can't see God for the same reason that, without a mirror, you can't see your own eyes, and you certainly can't bite your own teeth or look inside your head. Your self is that cleverly hidden because it is God hiding.

You may ask why God sometimes hides in the form of horrible people, or pretends to be people who suffer great disease and pain. Remember, first, that He isn't really doing this to anyone but Himself. Remember, too, that in almost all the stories you enjoy there have to be bad people as well as good people, for the thrill of the tale is to find out how the good people will get the better of the bad. It's the same as when we play cards. At the beginning of the game we shuffle them all into a mess, which is like the bad things in the world, but the point of the game is to put the mess into good order, and the one who does it best is the winner. Then we shuffle the cards once more and play again, and so it goes with the world.

Alan Watts

 oldviolin wrote: 
Semper memorabilis.

Quaque mane
Quaque nocte
Quis separabit?
Hoc est in votis

s   h   a   k   e   y   o   u   r   m   u   s   c   l   e   m   a   k   e   r

               

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

I became aware earlier this year
The spring I think
That I was on the radar of a crow
Many in fact
This has continued for the months passed since
Wherever I go they follow
I walk or drive down the street
And there they are
In the trees
Or on a light pole
Whispering to each other
"There he is," they click and cackle
"Watch him closely"
I pretend not to notice
And go my way
Yesterday while walking I happened to look
Up into a great cottonwood
There was a whole murder
Quietly watching my every move
I stopped and stared at them
They shifted uncomfortably and murmured
I laughed at them and said
Out loud
"Never more"
The largest one hopped to the upmost branch
And glared at me
With a shrill blast he exclaimed
"We'll see!"
"Indeed we will!" I shot back
His brethren nosily clucked and cawed malevolently
I laughed at them and gave them a sign of nobility
They quieted and remained silent as I stared them down
"Eat your death to your fill" I said
"Mine will be your undoing"
And walked on...

b

isaiah 40 :15

 schtan wrote: 
whoa!  That puts things in perspective, doesn't it?