I had drinks with the ghost of an old friend last night He died in a tragic drowning, thick and slow His face reminded me of my own death He tried to be ok and make polite conversation while his eyes cried out in pain and fear and confusion, oh the confusion, I remember it!
I had so much I wanted to tell him about this place where he has landed I wanted to tell him that he would feel better and there would be hope again but his ears are still too full of his own death He couldn’t hear my words or feel my touch
He has a guide, he will be ok Someone to hold him up when he can’t stand on his own And he will learn to walk and talk as a ghost Floating from room to room until his chains grow lighter Still with him, they will grow Light enough that he will fly again
Mama used to roll her hair Back before the central air We’d sit outside and watch the stars at night She’d tell me to make a wish I’d wish we both could fly Don’t think she’s seen the sky Since we got the satellite dish
“Enlightenment is a destructive process. It has nothing to do with becoming better or being happier. Enlightenment is the crumbling away of untruth. It’s seeing through the facade of pretense. It’s the complete eradication of everything we imagined to be true.”