flowing thoughts

      Your aliveness is going down because you are committing suicide in installments by becoming selective in your involvement. Whatever you do willingly, that is your heaven. Whatever you do unwillingly, that is your hell. What is considered so beautiful can become so horrible; what is a great love affair, becomes rape if it happens to you when you are unwilling. The difference is just willingness and unwillingness. If you take away the willingness, the process of life naturally becomes a suffering. Whether your mind is a misery or your mind is a miracle simply depends on whether you are allowing life to happen to you absolutely willingly or unwillingly. Is your life a love affair or is life just raping you? That is the question. If you are being raped by life, then the mind is a misery. If your life has become a love affair, then life is blissfulness, and the mind too is blissfulness. If you look at every life, if you look at how every atom is functioning, you will realize you are s

There were letters I wrote you that I gave up sending, long before I stopped writing. I don't remember their contents but I can recall with absolute clarity, your name scrawled across the pages. I could never quite contain you to those messy sheets of black ink. I could not stop you from overtaking everything else. I wrote your name over and over–on scraps of paper, in books and on the back of my wrists. I carved it like sacred markings into trees and the tops of my thighs. Months went by and few scars have vanished but the sting has not left me. Sometimes when I read a, parts will lift from the pages in an anagram of your name. Like a code to remind me it's not over. Like dyslexia in reverse. Say something to me. Quieten this silence of yours. Fill these empty spaces with your words, no matter how insignificant you claim them to be. I once tasted too much of the universe that lingered on your lips, consumed more than I planned of those woven around your words, and from the mom