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Literature Text
To understand Perfection, We must deeply deeply question and investigate What is Imperfection and Where does it come from?
Also, To be one with Perfection.. you must negate the Self/"Me" and Knowledge from the equation.
Remember Perfection is beyond Knowledge and the Mind,
so it is logical to be free of the mind and knowledge is to actually be in-sync with Perfection.
Why are we haunted by Imperfection?
Where does Imperfection come from?
Is there comparison when there is Imperfection?
Why are we chasing Perfection?
Isn't Perfection beyond Ideals and Conception?
Also, To be one with Perfection.. you must negate the Self/"Me" and Knowledge from the equation.
Remember Perfection is beyond Knowledge and the Mind,
so it is logical to be free of the mind and knowledge is to actually be in-sync with Perfection.
Why are we haunted by Imperfection?
Where does Imperfection come from?
Is there comparison when there is Imperfection?
Why are we chasing Perfection?
Isn't Perfection beyond Ideals and Conception?
Literature
{An Education}
It's like death
Precious notions
You gasp-
Collapse into the vertigo
The world where things take shape
Destroy and Recreate
So much so that your mind is a stranger
You might as well
Be dead
Real death
By yourself and left to fend
Ideas and opinions broken and then
Changed into a likeness of Truth, you mend
Pieces joined, and while there's freedom again
Sleepless nights-
Your pulled
Left and right
Thoughts hidden in plain sight
Tangled sheets you try to fight
And toss and turn in the night
Because
It most times gray
And (never) black and white
Pulls the wool form over your eyes
Your thoughts have changed and you realize
"You're learning.
Literature
City of Trees
City of Trees
By: Tyler E. Yeager - AirTyler of Deviantart 2013
Chipped brown roots lacing through soils and sands; like the feet of a crowd all bunched together.
Leaves and stones scattered beyond count and quantity, like the refuse and trash of a great and noisy festival.
Tall husks of bark reaching high beyond my head; they curl over and disperse like hands raised in celebration.
It's a party in there, one that never tires, one that never ends.
I am its witness, for I've heard the music of the birds and the wind howling and ringing like an age-old song.
Many see me trekking across the city and clear cutting from walkways. Appear
Literature
Dreamers
Us ne'er do wells find nothing
In oblique, obsidian towers.
But once there was a world
We were meant to create.
Dream of it to pass the hours.
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will add onto it later... but perfection is something, isn't it?
© 2010 - 2024 rexen724
Comments58
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perfection is truly ignorance...imperfection is perfection some do say. 