Imagination is the prelude to creation

Life is like an addiction

it feeds on itsef

Balance is the middle touch

Puppet reaches enlightenment

when it pulls it's own strings

Male is infertile female

female is infertile male

Eat, shit, fuck, reproduce,

work hard, make the rich richer,
fuck the world,
until it fucks you back.

When shit sinks, you got trouble,

when lovers hide, you got miracle.

When there was change, there was time.

True slave is given

true master is hidden

Once a mere survivor

then the bully of the planet
now reduced to mere number
chasing greed and ignorance
consuming own mother to death
with nowhere else to go
but within

By works the votary doth rise to faith,

And saintship is the ceasing from all works.

(Krishna, Bhagavadgita)

Memory is like a being

it is born out of action
it lives and expresses
and it dies and leaves a clue
when it loses integrity

You shout, they don't listen,

gotta whisper.

To be, unbe, or just slumber,

that's the question.

Mouth, nose

anus, genitals

Nothingness is a drum in tune

intent to respond to slightest touch
with infinite depth

Balance survives, imbalance evolves

Religion shown in an act of proud display

To win good entertainment, worship, fame,
Such ---say I--- is of Rajas, rash and vain,

Religion followed by a witless will
To torture self, or come at power to hurt
Another, ---'tis of Tamas, dark and ill.

(Krishna, Bhagavadgita)