Very dark living in a rain cloud

Very dark living in a rain cloud. I watch all perceptions,
not interested today. Bodily life continues with its’ comforts
and discipline. The spotlight is obscured by the cloud of not
wanting a choice, defending no perception . . . watching, no
clues left for me. I chose this. I chose this. The performer
sits in a melancholy mood. All I have been through . . .
what have I been through? Always the images, like mantras
repeated over and over, like breath repeated over and over or
anew and anew. Do you really know what it is that you
do? Everything is pretty dam silly . . . this . . . this not
knowing, how can you teach in such a position?
Sparkles, rain drops snake across windshield. Let him live
me. It’s a life . . . good as any other. What are these people
doing? What are they doing in all this mystery?
Paint, I like colors . . . pinks, reds, orange together with
lavender running through . . . gold and bronze and
chocolate . . . only light all this color is. Dream, dream me.
You choose not. You choose. It didn’t have to be me. I’m
too soft for you anyways. Typical response is a denial to act
on what you feel, others choose for you . . . everybody says
they do for others – give up for others, No – they choose
certain perceptions. It’s up for grabs in the moment.
Spiritual fan club are still just groupies . . . this
illumination is a private affair, why try to make something
out of it? No one is here to care or to choose only That

perception. Am I middle-aged? I’m old, too young to be of
this age. Does the heart talk into the microphone? If you
were really loose with yourself, I could see all the fragility;
all the need. Freedom is a mess when everyone is choosing
other than what is felt before them. Wisdom is to have no
knowledge, only Heart; only a broken One. Is love
noticing? Is love affixing a worth? Is love all alone? Fill
it up, is it empty? How to pick one single thing to care
about. What would you pick?