Untitled Words

I am nothing at all. 

And there is nothing I am not.

Love is death…and death…is…life! 

Such absolute vulnerability is the essence of virtue. 

Virtue is easily destroyed only to be reborn 

again and again.

The vulnerability of a flower and virtue go together.  

But they can only survive in emptiness.

Emptiness is peace of mind.

Virtue never grows from ideas and habit.

Nobody  can teach another how to be true to itself, that is crazy, for that is the way of a slave.

I shall begin a new world right now 
empty of all memory of myself if only to know who I, am.
That I, who accepted the impossible challenge to walk and talk  because it had already found the courage to come from a sheltered womb into the completely unknown world alone and on its own. 

What I know of the Kid I came here with is it is that which remains forever because it sees with clear eyes and no   selfish memory only what is before it and acts wisely. 

All else we call ourselves will perish. 

Memory of myself is thinking about myself 

and is definitely not the living truth of it.

I am what I am 
and know I must know it to have a chance at the life I have been born into.

We all need that Kid now.