Give me the time to sit and think on how amazing and discouraging life honestly is.
Life, the coin. I feel the 50/50 probabilities in each moment I am conscious.
What comes to mind is the deep dark chthonic cave I throughly desire to retreat to in order to hide from my wicked mind. That way I can rest fully and adequately. When can I return to the top half of the mandala and fight the dragon and her little beasts with my full strength and skill.
To prove to them all I can live hard and fight hard.
The Voices tell me:
No one in the world gets what they want and that is beautiful,
Everybody dies frustrated and sad and that is beautiful.
My personal Tara keeps me positive and content in the stupor life is.
Without her, I cannot work well with others.
discover with the beauty found in the mud ridden filth of this world.
Reside within the beauty and solely learn to cope with the rest.
Reference to They Might Be Giants as the Voices
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