"Inhale the future, exhale the past." - Note-on-anonymous-fridge And a preference for inhaling the present, now. Spring, that's nearly 2 weeks I put on 10 years and a few toxic bit.ter kilos. The mirror tastes of stale terror. S.B.* "ombudsman" in town to meet anyone but me: more loneliness-without-holiness patience to experience, no choice. Quiet and efficient for short life ways too, the shame to be so shamed, but it's best to live on after the Maybe, Maybe not and to be left alone in the dark as a memory-lost geriatric with no rights, means or sense. Part of what is 'me' is sleeplessly dying to be able to keep on living without my beating heart becoming a.not.her hard disillusioned chickpea. (*S.B. stands for Sadismus Budismus, just like H.H. stands for other experiences and experiencers.) "Holding on to anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die." - The Buddha (quite seemingly) Beyond this smacking wave, again, a soothing ocean of wise compassion is looked for before there is no 'me' left to feel and taste. Numbness can't be tranquility and peace in the palace of the open blue sky.