Why does this happen?
Can some kind Patriot please explain to me why this happens?
A lot of words when "this is all a dream" sums it up and saying nothing at all is infinitely wiser.
The eye is your eye.
>Einstein was Jewish so you have to let Jews continue to enslave the world
You're funny, rebbe.
I hope they kill you last.
<3 luv us all very much forever
Buddha said:
‘I consider the positions of kings and rulers as that of dust motes. I observe treasure of gold and gems as so many bricks and pebbles. I look upon the finest silken robes as tattered rags. I see myriad worlds of the universe as small seeds of fruit, and the greatest lake in India as a drop of oil on my foot. I perceive the teachings of the world to be the illusion of magicians. I discern the highest conception of emancipation as golden brocade in a dream, and view the holy path of the illuminated one as flowers appearing in one’s eyes. I see meditation as a pillar of a mountain, Nirvana as a nightmare of daytime. I look upon the judgment of right and wrong as the serpentine dance of a dragon, and the rise and fall of beliefs as but traces left by the four seasons.’
It's not real.
That's the joke.
There's no one to teach.
There's no one to learn from.
There's nothing to do.
There's no one to talk to.
And there never was.
And I pretend it's all real.
And I look stupid doing it.
That's the joke.
It's been weird lately.
I'm glad you're (not) here :)
My only way is no way
My only method is no method
The ocean is lonesome
Because there is only one of it
Although it stretches across the entire planet
It finds only itself
Without having a self
Concepts. Thoughts.
Go beyond that.
When you arrive there, if it is a place that involves thoughts, a thinker or one who is aware of thoughts and thinker, go beyond that, too, until there is no further beyond.
Om tayata gate gate paragate parasamgate bodhi svaha…
This dream is full of strange Buddhas pretending to be ordinary people.
In the midst of the nightmare he began narrating his actions and was shocked to realize the narrator responded immediately. The discovery that he was a character was disturbing. Lack of significance on a vast scale. Thoughts formed in fragment-like pictures, color-coded jigsaw puzzles.
"Who am I really talking to," he asked her "You or me? Is there even a difference"?
Maybe there was an answer but he didn't hear it, nor care. The dream was losing it's grip on him and he still surrendered to it, loved it, and let go of it. He began to say:
"Once upon a time there was a dream that couldn't die, and it never existed but it always had, and the people were sleeping gods and the gods were sleeping people, but the gods lost contact with their humanity, and the humans lost contact with their divinity, and they fought, and now the bastard children of infinite inbred crossbreed halfling gods and godling men have inherited the Earth."
"One whose name is unknown, I am Yesterday; one who views a million years; my name is one who passes on the paths of those who are in charge of destinies. I am he who fashioned with his Eye, and I will not die again. No left without a right. No shadow without a light. The roots of the tree of saints drink blood, sanguine, and stretch down into hell. Growth comes from overcoming one's own heart. I have gone out, I have risen up, I have gone in, I am alive."
My only ism is no ism.
If you do not understand this, you will not understand anything around you.