I made him some kitchari and a carrot salat… and then I worried about it all night. Not really. Most of the day. By night time I remembered that thing about the fruit of my labors and that I could breath and well, I just let it go unresolved like a balloon with an unbalanced equation printed crooked across it’s belly flying over a bridge to who cares where. Wave bye bye.
He said people who bend backwards get stuck in the past, people who bend too much forward are diving into the future. People who twist get hung up on some other stuff, blah blah all the way up to people who achieve samadhi and how even if you achieve it you can stagnate there and/or fall.
My legs fell asleep.
They were complaining at lunch about how Manos told a lady to take her bra off. They thought it was inappropriate. Why do they hate masculine energy? Is this why Kaphi gives me the evil eye? Oh, these feudal lord relations are killing me! Why can’t we just spar in the field to see who pays the bill. Ahimsa, huh? RAWR!
How do you get the violence out? Is violence towards violence still violence? How do you remove the himsa at the cellular level without producing more, where do you put it, how do you get rid of it without expressing it.
“Kill the violence!” crows the conqueror.
er, quarantine and dissolve the violence? [while adjusting your white coat and glasses]
“I think that might be violence from the violence’s perspective?” says the ultimate empath.
“Are you questioning the possibility of a material plane manifestation of violence rather than the ghost movement pattern ‘Violence” as a vritti?”
“Sure yeah, Is violence the particles or the waves, man?”
No particles, the waves keep getting smaller. You know like on the equinox when you hold up a mirror to the other mirror and look down the tunnel.
“So the violence won’t get hurt if I turn it on itself?”
“No, the violence can’t get hurt. It’s only a shape. But you will. ”
“Ugh, I might be too violent for this crowd… and that makes me angry…kuh-kaw! ”
Scorpio 2 finally made prefect sense. The bottle is broken, the experience is over. The scent remains and fills the present with the essence of the past.