a soul is stained, muted by its instinct to survive chained to what you believe you are and to what you presume to possess which of your belongings will you take with you? indeed, what have you come with that you can ever give away? even as charity? seems to me that nothing can truly be owned, only transferred … Continue reading of survival, possessions and purpose
Those empty words seem harmless veiled promises from the mimbar* of heaven and her houris a purpose for the purposeless *mimbar = pulpit
when you have perfected perfection what more purpose will you pursue?