"Since we are social animals, who depend on one another, to show love and compassion is wise." - Dalai Lama Somehow, it's no wonder we meet in hell, a very ignorant and obtuse one. Blow. Damned by powerful holy ones to get to this. It can't be otherwise. The movie of a life rolls back to the day I chose to stay among shiny strangers. More than 16 years later I see again a good movie that I missed: I can choose, I leave. A friendly happy home with the inspiration to meet a friend calling from somewhere on this planet is coming up next. Another one has died. Blown away, roots in the air. Got luckier, in a way, to be able to thank lucky stars for not having stormed in your rip-off doors kicking and punching monster-faces with vengeful bullet-words. I can look at the farewell skies with more not asked-for stories of sorrow and patience but little regret or remorse and face the stars without a murder or broken nose to wash down all through the nights and days left to live. Still-alives, miracles are a wiser focus than holy unholy damns and lies. Praise or damnation, who cares? Life is our precious miracle.