Rip trippy tree pearls of somatized wisdom, perhaps.
But the willow knows what the storms and axes of foolish men do not, and the ability to withstand damage often and usually outlasts the ability to inflict it.
Shift it out, get that larger perspective, that closer scope of the Grand Dance of All Things.
Spin that flywheel faster, get it up to speed to give that rare-found gear a good jolt to get it moving. The shock reverbating through the whole psyche? That strange shifting feeling that comes with? That's the start of the end. The prelude to the beginning, what have you.
Richters of mental magnitude notwithstanding, it's a strange to feel the beginning of tossing all that mental construction off to the side like it were construction paper and not the concrete that everyone wishes they were. Too attached to the world, too attached by far.
It's just a ride, a game, an amusement to pass the time with. Self-set limitations to provide challenge, a time limit to add that spice, and the ever-present chaos to give it that sensual spice of danger. When the game could end at any time, you're pressed to enjoy it that much more.
A finely wrought craft, this, but nothing that cannot be penetrated. Anamnesis shows a way, of course.
The game does not stop one from remembering. Far from it. It encourages it in those who wish to. Reminding one that it's all an illusion, even so finely wrought that one cannot distinguish it from the true reality.
Don't get so wrapped up in the game, for it's only temporary. Everything here is temporary.
-The Crash Test Dummy
Shift it out, get that larger perspective, that closer scope of the Grand Dance of All Things.
Spin that flywheel faster, get it up to speed to give that rare-found gear a good jolt to get it moving. The shock reverbating through the whole psyche? That strange shifting feeling that comes with? That's the start of the end. The prelude to the beginning, what have you.
Richters of mental magnitude notwithstanding, it's a strange to feel the beginning of tossing all that mental construction off to the side like it were construction paper and not the concrete that everyone wishes they were. Too attached to the world, too attached by far.
It's just a ride, a game, an amusement to pass the time with. Self-set limitations to provide challenge, a time limit to add that spice, and the ever-present chaos to give it that sensual spice of danger. When the game could end at any time, you're pressed to enjoy it that much more.
A finely wrought craft, this, but nothing that cannot be penetrated. Anamnesis shows a way, of course.
The game does not stop one from remembering. Far from it. It encourages it in those who wish to. Reminding one that it's all an illusion, even so finely wrought that one cannot distinguish it from the true reality.
Don't get so wrapped up in the game, for it's only temporary. Everything here is temporary.
-The Crash Test Dummy