"Summer" can be any way we paint it in our mind like Jan Matson (fineartamerica.com). |
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Teresa may be Asian but dreams of being blond. |
Summertime and the living's not that hard. Rachel's on the telephone with Ross's card. All people in trance will agree, we're two apartments locked down like a girl's penitentiary.
Summertime, unofficially, it's Memorial Day weekend when we remember the dead in memory. Not the Vets; they've got their own day. But the Dead, like the ones from the 60s.
Sexy as a dead, sunburned bird |
It was the summer of '69, and Lana wasn't even a glint in her father's eye. We had the plague, like the last one. No one was flirting, no one was hitting the springs. He was afraid of her, and she was afraid of him. And I thought, "What a great time for asubha meditation!"
Bodies are gross, but only when we look very closely and mindfully (attentively but dispassionately, watching while letting go). Otherwise, we get sucked into the illusion of beauty, attractiveness, longevity, and matter's ability to fulfill or satisfy. Things, like bodies, disappoint. That is the first sign of wisdom in the Four Ennobling Truths.
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