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are out there.


buddhism ? # =
poets ? # =


20 Jun 2002 / 2:12p.m.
.:  stars got crossed

10 mins ago i am standing in the shower washing off doctor bronner's, forhead pressed against tile, water sliding down the conch in my ears, off earlobes, down neck. i am listening to the sound of the circ fan, the low boom of a subwoofer in the next room. i'm thinking a lot about the sensory world, how it works into my beliefs and unconcious knowledge. lately i am needing sensory input in a fierce way: touch sight smell taste and sound sound sound. i am thinking a lot about tantrayana.

now i'm sitting here in a blue towel and a white teeshirt, drying, thinking about connections and astral cords and bindings between us. you and me. not an amorphous "you" - i honestly mean you. i wonder who you are. you should tell me.

a fair of you that read this thing actually know me in flesh. recently the pendulum started swinging on this: used to be i was pretty comfortable with you guys reading here. not so much anymore. pretty common sentiment for journallers, but not something i've really had a problem with before. i am wondering if honesty and full disclosure equate each other. maybe i want some secrets.

ups is bringing me my enon album today. i am gonna rock the fuck out. i hope it gets that damn eminem song out of my head.

someone needs to perfect fractal image compression.

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