Once upon a time, when
Mr West, Mrs East, Mr North, and Mrs South were playing the wellknown cardgame miniver, because
they had nothing else to do, Mrs East suddenly rose up as a sun and sneezed in a way that couldn't
be explained in an understandable manner. This scared Mr North so daerely, because he was hidden
within his thoughts behind his cards, so he started to scream out in a chilly manner which had Mrs South
to wrap herself up in a quick and handy way within her darkyellow veils.
Mr West got scared because
he couldn't explain the sneeze in an understandable manner, and a long corner of one of Mrs South's veils
formed a yellow dragon in front of his eyes so he had a hard time to free himself from this creature...
and meanwhile he was doing so he swept one hand over the table and ruined the miniver so it got yellow
spots all over it and furthermore he swept away a bunch of coins from the table all over the floor. There
they were, rolling around making funny sounds...
They are still rolling around
in the world as a jingle. Haven't you seen them? Mr West felt miserable about all this and started to
think it was his hemisphere of responsibility wherever there was a coin rolling. Mrs South just turned up
her eyes, made a half smile, and slowly shook her head. Mr North had grabbed the edge of the table
in a firm grip and took deep, slow breath. But no one could describe the warmth in the smile beyond
reach, and the delight of innosence from within the diamondshimmering of Mrs East's eyes when
she slowly sat down on her chair again...
One of the coins digged
a deep ditch in the consciousness when it was rolling ahead. A deep ditch in the soil of balance.
Making up two opposite sides... It hurts when one is on one and it delights when one is on the other.
It's one of the screamy jingles having people make up dualistic worlds of aspects.
Both Mr North's and
Mrs South's attitude are understandable... and Mr West didn't just get his hands full, but a full future.
People have as long as
traditions will reach tried to heal this ditch in the soil of balance. But even consciousness was split.
Waste your time. Waste your energy. Get tired... One isn't one but half if two aren't cooperating.
One can't drag someone else over the ditch if the other person isn't aware of where she/he is.
Assistance, cooperation within oneself; then you can more easily get over the ditch. The one who'll
help you to help yourself, help you to heal yourself, will have you to use your own energy, leading it,
controlling it; having you to comprise the specific time, place, and event of the jingle of the making
of the ditch in your balance. It's a lot of noise within your head. Get rid of that.
Nothing can describe
the full aroma and the sweetness of the scent of Mrs East's soft lips when they are slowly moving
as forming a silent song. But it can be felt... as an idea, as a thought of reality. A remembrance of
the future in the past.
The silence is one of
the biggest gifts.
Balance is silence...
and there's nothing wrong with miniver... Is it? |
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