Nobody Will Believe
Reach out, spit on the ground, wooden well, iron spell, if I lie I go to hell…
Reach out, spit on the ground, wooden well, iron spell, if I lie I go to hell…
Your life is before you like an ocean. My life too is an ocean, but behind me.
Our brain is just a computer. Who made the program? Touchy question …
There are sufferings that we inflict on ourselves as a punishment and others inflicted to grow.
Living one’s death, why not? But first how to do? Silence. And what is the purpose? Mystery.
A warrior treats the world as an infinite mystery, and what people do as an unlimited folly