"Everything exists, everything is true and the earth is only a little dust under our feet".
W. B. Yeats

"To think like a wise man, but to express oneself like the common people."
Aristotle

Day is done

When the day is done
Down to earth then sinks the sun
Along with everything that was lost and won
When the day is done.

When the day is done
Hope so much your race will be all run
Then you find you jumped the gun
Have to go back where you began
When the day is done.

When the night is cold
Some get by but some get old
Just to show life's not made of gold
When the night is cold.

When the bird has flown
Got no-one to call your own
Got no place to call your home
When the bird has flown.
When the game's been fought
You speed the ball across the court
Lost much sooner than you would have thought
Now the game's been fought.

When the party's through
Seems so very sad for you
Didn't do the things you meant to do
Now there's no time to start anew
Now the party's through.

When the day is done
Down to earth then sinks the sun
Along with everything that was lost and won
When the day is done.
Nick

BELLA CIAO

Questa mattina mi son svegliato
oh bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao,
questa mattina mi son svegliatoe ho trovato l'invasor.
Oh partigiano, portami via
oh bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao,
oh partigiano, portami via,
che mi sento di morir.
E se io muoio lassù in montagna
oh bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao,
e se io muoio lassù in montagnatu mi devi seppellir.
Seppellire sulla montagna,
oh bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao,
seppellire sulla montagna
sotto l'ombra di un bel fior.
E le genti che passeranno,
oh bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao,
e le genti che passerannomi diranno: " Che bel fior ".
È questo il fiore del partigiano,
oh bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao,
è questo il fiore del partigiano
morto per la libertà.

Leaving Me Behind

The tramp moves on to the end of the street
I listen to the echo of his hobnail feet
For some there's a future to find
But I think they're leaving me behind.

The world humes on at its breakneck pace
People fly in their lifelong race
For them there's a future to find
But I think they're leaving me behind.

The chances they come, but the chances have been lost
Success can be gained, but at too great a cost
For some there's a future to find
But I think they're leaving me behind.

The wind sweeps up and goes back to its tree
The rain flows by and moves to the sea
For them there's a future to find
But I think they're leaving me behind.
Nick

"Aequam memento rebus in arduis
Servare mentem:"
Horace

Fairytale Of New York

It was Christmas Eve babe
In the drunk tank
An old man said to me, won't see another one
And then he sang a song
The rare old mountain Dew
I turned my face away
And dreamed about you
Got on a lucky one
Came in eighteen to one
I've got a feeling
This year's for me and you
So happy Christmas
I love you baby
I can see a better time
When all our dreams come true
They've got cars big as bars
They've got rivers of gold
But the wind goes right through you
It's no place for the old
When you first took my hand
On a cold Christmas Eve
You promised me
Broadway was waiting for me
You were handsome
You were pretty
Queen of New York City
When the band finished playing
They howled out for more
Sinatra was swinging,
All the drunks they were singing
We kissed on a corner
Then danced through the night
The boys of the NYPD choir
Were singing "Galway Bay"
And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas day
You're a bum
You're a punk
You're an old slut on junk
Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed
You scumbag, you maggot
You cheap lousy faggot
Happy Christmas your arse
I pray God it's our last
The boys of the NYPD choir
Still singing "Galway Bay"
And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas day
I could have been someone
Well so could anyone
You took my dreams from me
When I first found you
I kept them with me babe
I put them with my own
Can't make it all alone
I've built my dreams around you
The boys of the NYPD choir
Were singing "Galway Bay"
And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas day
The boys of the NYPD choir
Were singing "Galway Bay"
And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas day
The Pogues

The lights of stars that were extinguished ages ago still reaches us. So it is with great men who died centuries ago, but still reach us with the radiations of their personalities.
Kahlil Gibran

"Man is disturbed not by things, but by the views he takes of them."
Stoic quotation

Home is a state of mind.

The Child's Story

Once upon a time, a good many years ago, there was a traveller, and he set out upon a journey. It was a magic journey, and was to seem very long when he began it, and very short when he got half way through.

He travelled along a rather dark path for some little time, without meeting anything, until at last he came to a beautiful child. So he said to the child, "What do you do here?" And the child said, "I am always at play. Come and play with me!"

So, he played with that child, the whole day long, and they were very merry. The sky was so blue, the sun was so bright, the water was so sparkling, the leaves were so green, the flowers were so lovely, and they heard such singing-birds and saw so many butteries, that everything was beautiful. This was in fine weather. When it rained, they loved to watch the falling drops, and to smell the fresh scents. When it blew, it was delightful to listen to the wind, and fancy what it said, as it came rushing from its home-- where was that, they wondered!--whistling and howling, driving the clouds before it, bending the trees, rumbling in the chimneys, shaking the house, and making the sea roar in fury. But, when it snowed, that was best of all; for, they liked nothing so well as to look up at the white flakes falling fast and thick, like down from the breasts of millions of white birds; and to see how smooth and deep the drift was; and to listen to the hush upon the paths and roads.

They had plenty of the finest toys in the world, and the most astonishing picture-books: all about scimitars and slippers and turbans, and dwarfs and giants and genii and fairies, and blue- beards and bean-stalks and riches and caverns and forests and Valentines and Orsons: and all new and all true.

But, one day, of a sudden, the traveller lost the child. He called to him over and over again, but got no answer. So, he went upon his road, and went on for a little while without meeting anything, until at last he came to a handsome boy. So, he said to the boy, "What do you do here?" And the boy said, "I am always learning. Come and learn with me."

So he learned with that boy about Jupiter and Juno, and the Greeks and the Romans, and I don't know what, and learned more than I could tell--or he either, for he soon forgot a great deal of it. But, they were not always learning; they had the merriest games that ever were played. They rowed upon the river in summer, and skated on the ice in winter; they were active afoot, and active on horseback; at cricket, and all games at ball; at prisoner's base, hare and hounds, follow my leader, and more sports than I can think of; nobody could beat them. They had holidays too, and Twelfth cakes, and parties where they danced till midnight, and real Theatres where they saw palaces of real gold and silver rise out of the real earth, and saw all the wonders of the world at once. As to friends, they had such dear friends and so many of them, that I want the time to reckon them up. They were all young, like the handsome boy, and were never to be strange to one another all their lives through.

Still, one day, in the midst of all these pleasures, the traveller lost the boy as he had lost the child, and, after calling to him in vain, went on upon his journey. So he went on for a little while without seeing anything, until at last he came to a young man. So, he said to the young man, "What do you do here?" And the young man said, "I am always in love. Come and love with me."

So, he went away with that young man, and presently they came to one of the prettiest girls that ever was seen--just like Fanny in the corner there--and she had eyes like Fanny, and hair like Fanny, and dimples like Fanny's, and she laughed and coloured just as Fanny does while I am talking about her. So, the young man fell in love directly--just as Somebody I won't mention, the first time he came here, did with Fanny. Well! he was teased sometimes--just as Somebody used to be by Fanny; and they quarrelled sometimes--just as Somebody and Fanny used to quarrel; and they made it up, and sat in the dark, and wrote letters every day, and never were happy asunder, and were always looking out for one another and pretending not to, and were engaged at Christmas-time, and sat close to one another by the fire, and were going to be married very soon--all exactly like Somebody I won't mention, and Fanny!

But, the traveller lost them one day, as he had lost the rest of his friends, and, after calling to them to come back, which they never did, went on upon his journey. So, he went on for a little while without seeing anything, until at last he came to a middle-aged gentleman. So, he said to the gentleman, "What are you doing here?" And his answer was, "I am always busy. Come and be busy with me!"

So, he began to be very busy with that gentleman, and they went on through the wood together. The whole journey was through a wood, only it had been open and green at first, like a wood in spring; and now began to be thick and dark, like a wood in summer; some of the little trees that had come out earliest, were even turning brown. The gentleman was not alone, but had a lady of about the same age with him, who was his Wife; and they had children, who were with them too. So, they all went on together through the wood, cutting down the trees, and making a path through the branches and the fallen leaves, and carrying burdens, and working hard.

Sometimes, they came to a long green avenue that opened into deeper woods. Then they would hear a very little, distant voice crying, "Father, father, I am another child! Stop for me!" And presently they would see a very little figure, growing larger as it came along, running to join them. When it came up, they all crowded round it, and kissed and welcomed it; and then they all went on together.

Sometimes, they came to several avenues at once, and then they all stood still, and one of the children said, "Father, I am going to sea," and another said, "Father, I am going to India," and another, "Father, I am going to seek my fortune where I can," and another, "Father, I am going to Heaven!" So, with many tears at parting, they went, solitary, down those avenues, each child upon its way; and the child who went to Heaven, rose into the golden air and vanished.

Whenever these partings happened, the traveller looked at the gentleman, and saw him glance up at the sky above the trees, where the day was beginning to decline, and the sunset to come on. He saw, too, that his hair was turning grey. But, they never could rest long, for they had their journey to perform, and it was necessary for them to be always busy.

At last, there had been so many partings that there were no children left, and only the traveller, the gentleman, and the lady, went upon their way in company. And now the wood was yellow; and now brown; and the leaves, even of the forest trees, began to fall.

So, they came to an avenue that was darker than the rest, and were pressing forward on their journey without looking down it when the lady stopped.

"My husband," said the lady. "I am called."

They listened, and they heard a voice a long way down the avenue, say, "Mother, mother!"

It was the voice of the first child who had said, "I am going to Heaven!" and the father said, "I pray not yet. The sunset is very near. I pray not yet!"

But, the voice cried, "Mother, mother!" without minding him, though his hair was now quite white, and tears were on his face.

Then, the mother, who was already drawn into the shade of the dark avenue and moving away with her arms still round his neck, kissed him, and said, "My dearest, I am summoned, and I go!" And she was gone. And the traveller and he were left alone together.

And they went on and on together, until they came to very near the end of the wood: so near, that they could see the sunset shining red before them through the trees.

Yet, once more, while he broke his way among the branches, the traveller lost his friend. He called and called, but there was no reply, and when he passed out of the wood, and saw the peaceful sun going down upon a wide purple prospect, he came to an old man sitting on a fallen tree. So, he said to the old man, "What do you do here?" And the old man said with a calm smile, "I am always remembering. Come and remember with me!"

So the traveller sat down by the side of that old man, face to face with the serene sunset; and all his friends came softly back and stood around him. The beautiful child, the handsome boy, the young man in love, the father, mother, and children: every one of them was there, and he had lost nothing. So, he loved them all, and was kind and forbearing with them all, and was always pleased to watch them all, and they all honoured and loved him. And I think the traveller must be yourself, dear Grandfather, because this what you do to us, and what we do to you.

Charles Dickens

"... There is nothing so unnatural as the commonplace".
Arthur Conan Doyle

The rare old mountain dew

Let grasses grow and waters flow
In a free and easy way,
But give me enough of the rare old stuff
That's made near Galway Bay,
Come gangers all from Donegal,Sligo and Leitrim too,
Oh, we'll give the slip and we'll take a sip
Of the rare old Mountain Dew
Hi the dithery al the dal, dal the dal the dithery al, al the dal, dal dithery al dee
Hi the dithery al the dal, dal the dal the dithery al, dal the dal, dal dithery al dee
There's a neat little still at the foot of the hill,
Where the smoke curls up to the sky,
By a whiff of the smell you can plainly tell
That there's poitin, boys, close by.
For it fills the air with a perfume rare,
And betwixt both me and you,
As home we roll, we can drink a bowl,
Or a bucketful of Mountain Dew
Now learned men as use the pen,
Have writ the praises high
Of the rare poitin from Ireland green,
Distilled from wheat and rye.
Away with yer pills, it'll cure all ills,
Be ye Pagan, Christian or Jew,
So take off your coat and grease your throat
With a bucketful of Mountain Dew.
Traditional folk song

CARRY ME.

When you're standing by the roadside
And it's a long way to go
Ah, to carry me
to carry me, carry me, carry me, friend
Oh, to carry me
Together in this mad land
far from truest of hands
well I'll carry you
if you'll carry me, carry me, carry me, friend
Oh, carry me
And we'll petrol Bomb the state
we'll blow away the hate
But we'll do it in our minds
If we can take the time
we'll build ourselves a road
from what we know
each take our part
and now's the time to start
Oh yea it is
Oh it must be
Oh it must be
Oh it must be
But Jane's taking Heroin
and Paul is getting pissed
Steve is getting stoned
too fucked to fight
Sarah's on the Acid
and Sean has blown his mind
someone's busy hiding too fucked to fight
Yea, Some have found religion
and some have run away
and some they formed a party
to find a way
Yea, some joined the system
some just look awayand some just bite their backsides
to find a way
And there is a way ...
Yes, there is a way ...
Yes, there is a way ...
When you're standing by the roadside
and it's a long way to go
Well I'll carry you
if you'll carry me, carry me, carry me, friend
well I'll carry you
The Levellers

There should be a Shane McGowan's day!

CIRCLESQUARE

Is that a smile that hangs beneath your nose
or are your lips just stuck to your teeth
and they're too fixed to close you don't
have to ham it up for me or tell me how long you've
waited just to be with me

I've been a long term disappointment to myself
but it hits like a hammer when I'm that to someone else
and now the circle doesn't fit it's little square
it bulges with opportunity ... bulges

Is that a smile that hangs beneath your nose
or are your eyes so wide they've pulled your mouth into a stupid pose you don't
have to ham it up for me or
tell me how long you've waited just to be with me

I've been a long term disappointment to myself
but it hits like a hammer when
I'm that to someone else
and now the circle doesn't fit it's little square
it bulges with opportunity ... bulges
The Wonder Stuff

Hazy Shade Of Winter

Time, time, time, see whats become of me
While I looked around
For my possibilities
I was so hard to please
But look around, leaves are brown
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter

Hear the salvation army band
Down by the riverside, its bound to be a better ride
Than what youve got planned
Carry your cup in your hand
And look around, leaves are brown now
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter

Hang on to your hopes, my friend
Thats an easy thing to say, but if your hopes should pass away
Simply pretend
That you can build them again
Look around, the grass is high
The fields are ripe, its the springtime of my life

Ahhh, seasons change with the scenery
Weaving time in a tapestry
Wont you stop and remember me
At any convenient time
Funny how my memory slips while looking over manuscripts
Of unpublished rhyme
Drinking my vodka and lime

But look around, leaves are brown now
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter

Look around, leaves are brown
Theres a patch of snow on the ground...
Simon and Garfunkel

HELLO IT'S ME

Andy it's me, haven't seen you in a while
I wished I talked to you more when you were alive
I thought you were self-assured when you acted shy
Hello it's me
I really miss you, I really miss your mind
I haven't heard ideas like that in such a long, long time
I loved to watch you draw and watch you paint
But when I saw you last I turned away

When Billy Name was sick and locked up in his room
You asked me for some speed, I though it was for you
I'm sorry that I doubted your good heart
Things always seem to end before they start

Hello it's me, that was a great gallery show
Your cow wallpaper and your floating silver pillows
I wish I paid more attention when they laughed at you
Hello it's me

"Pop goes pop artist," the headline said
"Is shooting a put-on, is Warhol really dead?"
You get less time for stealing a car
I remember thinking as I heard my own record in a bar

They really hated you, now all that's changed
But I have some resentments that can never be unmade
You hit me where it hurt I didn't laugh
Your Diaries are not a worthy epitaph
Oh well now Andy - guess we've got to go
I hope some way somehow you like this little show
I know it's late in coming but it's the only way I know
Hello it's me - goodnight Andy...
Goodbye, Andy
Lou Reed and John Cale

But hey, how could I know?
The wind would blow with the rain...
Hey, how could I see,
What would they make out of me?
Raul Seixas

The Owl And The Birds

AN OWL, in her wisdom, counseled the Birds that when the acorn first began to sprout, to pull it all up out of the ground and not allow it to grow. She said acorns would produce mistletoe, from which an irremediable poison, the bird- lime, would be extracted and by which they would be captured. The Owl next advised them to pluck up the seed of the flax, which men had sown, as it was a plant which boded no good to them. And, lastly, the Owl, seeing an archer approach, predicted that this man, being on foot, would contrive darts armed with feathers which would fly faster than the wings of the Birds themselves. The Birds gave no credence to these warning words, but considered the Owl to be beside herself and said that she was mad. But afterwards, finding her words were true, they wondered at her knowledge and deemed her to be the wisest of birds. Hence it is that when she appears they look to her as knowing all things, while she no longer gives them advice, but in solitude laments their past folly.
Aesop

All animals are equal but some animals are more equal than others.
George Orwell ( 1903 - 1950), "Animal Farm"

Have more than thou showest; Speak less than thou Knowest.
William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), 'King Lear,' Act I, Scene iv

“If you enter this world knowing you are loved and you leave this world knowing the same, then everything that happens in between can be dealt with.”
Michael Jackson

If god had really intended men to fly, he'd make it easier to get to the airport.
George Winters

No law or ordinance is mightier than understanding.
Plato

When you travel, remember that a foreign country is not designed to make you confortable. It is designed to make its own people confortable.
Clifton Fadiman

The Prince and The Magician

Once upon a time there was a young prince who believed in all things but three.
He did not believe in princesses, he did not believe in islands, and he did not believe in God.
His father, the king, told him that such things did not exist. As there were no princesses or islands in his father's domains, and no sign of God, the prince believed his father.
But then, one day, the prince ran away from his palace and came to the next land.
There, to his astonishment, from every coast he saw islands, and on these islands, strange and troubling creatures whom he dared not name. As he was searching for a boat, a man in full evening dress approached him along the shore.
"Are those real islands?" asked the young prince.
"Of course they are real islands," said the man in evening dress."
And those strange and troubling creatures?"
"They are all genuine and authentic princesses."
"Then God must also exist!" cried the young prince.
"I am God," replied the man in evening dress, with a bow.
The young prince returned home as quickly as he could.
"So, you are back," said his father, the king."
I have seen islands, I have seen princesses, I have seen God," said the prince reproachfully.
The king was unmoved."Neither real islands, real princesses nor a real God exist."
"I saw them!"
"Tell me how God was dressed."
"God was in full evening dress."
"Were the sleves of his coat rolled back?"
The prince remembered that they had been.
The king smiled."That is the uniform of a magician. You have been deceived."
At this, the prince returned to the next land and went to the same shore, where once again he came upon the man in full evening dress.
"My father, the king, has told me who you are," said the prince indignantly.
"You deceived me last time, but not again. Now I know that those are not real islands and real princesses, because you are a magician."
The man on the shore smiled.
"It is you who are deceived, my boy. In your father's kingdom, there are many islands and many princesses. But you are under your father's spell, so you cannot see them."
The prince pensively returned home. When he saw his father, he looked him in the eye.
"Father, is it true that you are not a real king, but only a magician?"
The king smiled and rolled back his sleeves.
"Yes, my son, I'm only a magician."
"Then the man on the other shore was God."
"The man on the other shore was another magician."
"I must know the truth, the truth beyond magic."
"There is no truth beyond magic," said the king.
The prince was full of sadness. He said "I will kill myself."
The king by magic caused Death to appear. Death stood in the door and beckoned to the prince. The prince shuddered. He remembered the beautiful but unreal islands and the unreal but beautiful princesses.
"Very well," he said, "I can bear it".
"You see, my son," said the king, "you, too, now begin to be a magician."
From "The Magus" by John Fowles.

Fatima

You are all waiting for a Divine Intervention
But you don’t know the time is now running against you.
You get lost in the middle of so much fear of
Not being able to buy without selling yourself;

And you love your delusional schemes,
Keep pretending the world was made by no one;

It just happens that everything has a beginning,
And if it began, one day it will end;
I feel sorry for yourselves!

And the nuclear weapons attacks threats,
Neutron bombs weren’t made by god;
Somebody, somebody one day will take revenge…
You are worms you think you are kings!

I don’t want to be like yourselves!
I no longer need!
I already know what I have to know,
And now… whatever!

Three children lacking money and morals…
They didn’t hear the gentle voice which was a tear drop,
And they forgot to tell everyone it might have had a name,
And the name was Fatima!
And suddenly the wine turned into water,
And the wound didn’t heal,
The stainless got dirty and,
On the third day nobody was brought back to life.

Fê Lemos and Renato Russo
Free translation by Shell

You, O eternal Trinity, are a deep sea, into which the more I enter the more I find, and the more I find the more I seek. The soul cannot be satiated in your abyss, for she continually hungers after you, the eternal Trinity, desiring to see you with the light of your light. As the hart desires the springs of living water, so my soul desires to leave the prison of this dark body and see you in truth.
Feast of Catherine of Siena, Mystic, Teacher, 1380

Oh Italy!
Iwish Iwish - A believer I wish I was.

About a dream...

I wish you well and so I take my leave, I pray you know me when we meet again.
William Shakespeare

Sant Celoni - Barcelona - Cervera - LLeida - Ainsa - Torla... Beautiful!
So much to say... Such little time!

"How beautiful it is to do nothing and then rest afterwards".
Spanish Proverb

23/05/2008
On Holiday!!!

Morning: Paris on the way to Barcelona.
I can't stand "Charles de Gaule"'s brightness!
I haven't slept a wink on the plane.

Barcelona at last!

I can't believe we made it to Sant Celoni this afternoon!

21/05/2008
What a stressful day!
Very busy, quite annoying but...
Thank god it’s the last before my holidays!
Evening: -delusion fighting;
-see my angel.
I Should have started packing my things...
Tomorrow - off to Barcelona.

Anger is a signal and a one worth listening to.
Harriet Lerner

Happiness is nothing more than good health and bad memory.
Albert Schweitzer

We hang the petty thieves and appoint the great ones to public office.

Aesop

Consistency is the last refuge of the inimaginative.
Oscar Wilde

Sung By Bobby Mcferrin

Here's a little song I wrote
You might want to sing it note for note
Don't worry, be happy
In every life we have some trouble
But when you worry you make it double
Don't worry, be happy
Don't worry, be happy now
Don't worry, be happy
Don't worry, be happy
Don't worry, be happy
Don't worry, be happy
Ain't got no place to lay your head
Somebody came and took your bed
Don't worry, be happy
The landlord say your rent is late
He may have to litigate
Don't worry, be happy
Don't worry, be happy
Don't worry, be happy,
Don't worry, be happy
Don't worry, be happy,
Don't worry, be happy

Even on the highest throne in the world, we are still sitting on our ass.
Michel de Montaigne

Intervention Now!

It's high time the United Nations made an effective move towards the liberation of Burma.
Not even in the middle of a natural disaster can the military government pay attention to the needs of people but on their own "referendum interests".
Shame on them! Shame on us!
How come we are still allowing such atrocities to happen?

“No one has ever learned fully to know themselves.”
“My peace is gone, my heart is heavy.”
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Praeterita mutare non possumus.

On a cold saturday,
A cat cries...
The philosopher is hurt.

" Om Tare Tutare Ture Soha".

Sun shines
shadow in - brightness out
Brightness in - shadow, out!
Sun sets light.

“I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; A stage where every man must play a part, And mine is a sad one” William Shakespeare

“A human being is part of a whole, called by us the Universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings, as something separated from the rest a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circles of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty". Albert Einstein

A “delusion” is commonly defined as a fixed false belief and is used in everyday language to describe a belief that is either false, fanciful or derived from deception.
In psychiatry, the definition is necessarily more precise and implies that the belief is pathological (the result of an illness or illness process). As a pathology it is distinct from a belief based on false or incomplete information or certain effects of perception which would more properly be termed an apperception or illusion.
Delusions typically occur in the context of neurological or mental illness, although they are not tied to any particular disease and have been found to occur in the context of many pathological states (both physical and mental). However, they are of particular diagnostic importance in psychotic disorders and particularly in schizophenia and bipolar disorder. Wiki
In Buddhism, delusion is ... a lack of awareness of the true nature or Buddha nature of things, or of the true meaning of existence. "According to the Buddhist outlook, we are deluded by our senses-- among which intellect (discriminating, discursive thought) is included as a sixth sense. Consciousness, attached to the senses, leads us into error by causing us to take the world of appearances for the world of reality, whereas in fact it is only a limited and fleeting aspect of reality." The Shambhala Dictionary of Buddhism and Zen.

Nothing like a good night's sleep!!!

O, woe is me,
To have seen what I have seen, see what I see!
William Shakespeare, "Hamlet", Act 3 scene 1
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep:
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to,--'t is a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub:
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
William Shakespeare, "Hamlet", Act 3 scene 1

I am tired of being a slave.
That's what our society does to people-turn them into donkeys.
And that's what one must do to have a little respect, work!
Hard to understand...

I have immortal longings in me.