Would you like any cake, would you like some cake, or would you like every cake? In the place where any thing is possible, perspectives invert, the rules change, complicity happens just because it's expected. So if you think some thing will die, show me as you leave why time flies every time you've lied.
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I think that I would say-
What I want to know is-
What is cake?
How can you tell it is cake, if you've not even hardly had enough bread?
"There is meat for strong men, and milk for little babies," as it is said.
Is it true freedom- to be free of the lies which so many are tied. Or is the bars of the prison, make the inside of the self- so much larger?
Does it matter, at the still point?
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