a death

the death of a friend

reexamining the shortness and fragility of life,

reexamining love, loneliness, and longing:

there is no self to love

there is no self to be lonely

there is no self that longs for wholeness

Human poisons reflecting.

IT

is the form; is the emptiness

without which there is no intimacy.

Intimacy.

IT

Lying to ourselves that we don’t need others

is just lying to ourselves

nihilistic pud-wanking

and we become dead and fool ourselves that we are alive

and pure, and free of suffering

So many flowers in the world!

I grieve for this one.

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