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…
There are sufferings that we inflict on ourselves as a punishment and others inflicted to grow.
Our brain is just a computer. Who made the program? Touchy question …
Your life is before you like an ocean. You don’t see the shore. My life too is an ocean, but behind me.
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