Shut up; Gently Speaking

I have nothing to say.

That’s easily the worst sentence to start a post.

I recently put the petulant twins — anger and outrage — to sleep. Outrage slept easier than Anger, but it did, eventually.

 I still have respect for those who disagree with me, but I know not, if they do, too.

.

.

.

This blinking cursor is intimidating.

I have, perhaps, reached the border of wisdom-land, or of insanity-shire. I wouldn’t know; I’ve never been there.

But it is peaceful for sure — just like the chaotic extremes we now live.

.

.

With a difference; one end is true; the other extreme is false.

Events don’t define our lives.

Nothing is permanent. Not even our beliefs. Yet, we hold on to them, for the “security of known misery to the misery of unfamiliar insecurity”.

Sheldon B. Kopp.

In, “If You Meet the Buddha on the Road, Kill Him.” Paraphrased. Verbatim-ly.

We can speak.

.

.

Paralysed beings with active fingers.

Empowered fingers of shallow, rotting minds, to that one side.

.

I take irony and smother her, and strangle her, with four hands.

She laughs back at me.

140.

She is still laughing.

Dead.

Because both of us are alive, we know not, who is dead.

.

.

.

The power of the medium is not our strength.

We mistook our ability to use the power of the medium for our ability to use our intellect, imagination, and insight.

Like riding a wave.

It’s the nature of the wave that allows us to ride; all we do, is maintain our balance.

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.

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I have nothing to say.

And you should know by now,

I have nothing to say.

PS: This post is right-aligned.

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