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Self consciousness flows within the river of

reactive-interrelated-machinery.

 

Self consciousness evolved within the river as a survival enhancement

and is the apex....the outer edge of what is.

 

Most of the river rumbles on....consuming itself.....most of self

consciousness rumbles on.......whining and whimpering.

 

The river is headed to one place.....the oblivion of emptiness out of

which it emerged.

 

But..........something most strange........

 

There occurs a phenomena whereby self consciousness stands up in the

river and looks around.

 

It is not you who stands up......but it is consciousness itself that

uses the machinery that you call 'me'.

 

Above the flat plane......a head rises...surveys the scenery flowing

by.....and then slips once again into the fluidity.

 

Forget everything that you have learned.......Leave all that love

stuff behind........drop that old dead god......and stand up.

 

This is who you are.

 

This is why you were born.

 

 

 

 

toombaru

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Nisargadatta , " toombaru2006 " <lastrain wrote:

>

>

>

> Self consciousness flows within the river of

> reactive-interrelated-machinery.

 

 

there is no such 'machinery'

 

 

> Self consciousness evolved within the river as a survival enhancement

> and is the apex....the outer edge of what is.

 

 

 

'self consciousness is not the apex of anything. it's human conceit to

think so but it's just silly small minded thought(the only kind

available to this grand creature on an outskirt planet going around an

outskirt solar event found in the outskirts of a rather mundane and

unimportant galaxy) that delivers that message. there are realms and

domains so far 'beyond' what is called 'self consciousness as to make

the above statement farcical beyond thought or belief!

 

 

 

> Most of the river rumbles on....consuming itself.....most of self

> consciousness rumbles on.......whining and whimpering.

 

 

yes you do...all the time as well.

 

 

> The river is headed to one place.....the oblivion of emptiness out of

> which it emerged.

>

> But..........something most strange........

>

> There occurs a phenomena whereby self consciousness stands up in the

> river and looks around.

>

> It is not you who stands up......but it is consciousness itself that

> uses the machinery that you call 'me'.

 

 

 

oh c'mon now toombaru...life is not a poem. nothing uses anything.

except you use words to try and convince yourself that there is

anything at all happening...you are afraid of the Real Situation..you

must be to go to all this trouble trying to convince your'self' and

others that what you say has any merit in a world of no merits whatsoever.

 

 

 

> Above the flat plane......a head rises...surveys the scenery flowing

> by.....and then slips once again into the fluidity.

>

> Forget everything that you have learned.......Leave all that love

> stuff behind........drop that old dead god......and stand up.

>

> This is who you are.

>

> This is why you were born.

>

>

>

>

> toombaru

 

 

sounds good........next time your old wife overcooks your

pancakes..blow her old head off...forget that love shit..oh and those

grandkids...if they want a popsicle right at the time you are busy

with writing more nonsense...suck their noses till their heads cave in

....just like sucking in a chocolate covered maraschino cherry....same

results...and no love lost.

 

this is why you were born.

 

this is why you and the kin occupy the barn.

 

..b bobji baba

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Nisargadatta , " toombaru2006 " <lastrain wrote:

> This is who you are.

>

> This is why you were born.

 

Nope.

Still with the " intellectual " prestidigitation, eh toombaya?

Skill with the word is no sign of anything special,

but the power of the word over your neurons.

Still doing their bidding, eh toombaya?

 

" This " (your word, not mine) is not " who you are! "

" This " (your word, not mind) is not " why you were born! "

 

Still with the " intellectual " prestidigitation, eh toombaya?

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Nisargadatta , " fmraerdy " <mybox234 wrote:

>

> Nisargadatta , " toombaru2006 " <lastrain@> wrote:

> > This is who you are.

> >

> > This is why you were born.

>

> Nope.

> Still with the " intellectual " prestidigitation, eh toombaya?

> Skill with the word is no sign of anything special,

> but the power of the word over your neurons.

> Still doing their bidding, eh toombaya?

>

> " This " (your word, not mine) is not " who you are! "

> " This " (your word, not mind) is not " why you were born! "

>

> Still with the " intellectual " prestidigitation, eh toombaya?

>

 

 

 

 

there is a strange river,

from which no one returns

 

the stars weep

when the curtain falls.

 

;-)

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Nisargadatta , " anabebe57 " <kailashana wrote:

>

> Nisargadatta , " fmraerdy " <mybox234@> wrote:

> >

> > Nisargadatta , " toombaru2006 " <lastrain@> wrote:

> > > This is who you are.

> > >

> > > This is why you were born.

> >

> > Nope.

> > Still with the " intellectual " prestidigitation, eh toombaya?

> > Skill with the word is no sign of anything special,

> > but the power of the word over your neurons.

> > Still doing their bidding, eh toombaya?

> >

> > " This " (your word, not mine) is not " who you are! "

> > " This " (your word, not mind) is not " why you were born! "

> >

> > Still with the " intellectual " prestidigitation, eh toombaya?

> >

>

>

>

>

> there is a strange river,

> from which no one returns

>

> the stars weep

> when the curtain falls.

>

> ;-)

 

 

 

there is no such river.

 

nothing is 'strange'.

 

stars don't weep.

 

there is no curtain and most certainly no falling.

 

there is no escape.

 

nothing started and nothing ends.

 

there's nowhere to go and nothing to talk about.

 

face it...toomie is wrong.

 

..b bobji baba

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Nisargadatta , " roberibus111 "

<Roberibus111 wrote:

>

> Nisargadatta , " anabebe57 " <kailashana@>

wrote:

> >

> > Nisargadatta , " fmraerdy " <mybox234@> wrote:

> > >

> > > Nisargadatta , " toombaru2006 " <lastrain@>

wrote:

> > > > This is who you are.

> > > >

> > > > This is why you were born.

> > >

> > > Nope.

> > > Still with the " intellectual " prestidigitation, eh toombaya?

> > > Skill with the word is no sign of anything special,

> > > but the power of the word over your neurons.

> > > Still doing their bidding, eh toombaya?

> > >

> > > " This " (your word, not mine) is not " who you are! "

> > > " This " (your word, not mind) is not " why you were born! "

> > >

> > > Still with the " intellectual " prestidigitation, eh toombaya?

> > >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> > there is a strange river,

> > from which no one returns

> >

> > the stars weep

> > when the curtain falls.

> >

> > ;-)

>

>

>

> there is no such river.

>

> nothing is 'strange'.

>

> stars don't weep.

>

> there is no curtain and most certainly no falling.

>

> there is no escape.

>

> nothing started and nothing ends.

>

> there's nowhere to go and nothing to talk about.

>

> face it...toomie is wrong.

>

> .b bobji baba

>

 

 

 

ah...darling Roberto, the river of no return flows from the mouth

of " I Am " , returning to the sea of infinity.

 

 

FIRE AND SALT:

 

They call to me the harbingers:

 

the ashes

the frost

the light

the fire

 

they no longer astound me

I wear them all

 

my skin

my tongue

my hair

my soul

 

know

intimately

this moment

as the light shatters all

 

.... leaves a sticky residue

 

 

They call to me the bestowers

 

lovers

friends

family

enemies

 

they no longer astound me

I wear them all

 

like another skin

sometimes grasping

sometimes denying

my heart of hearts

 

they stick to me

like the scent of green papayas

like the taste of honey

 

.... I wear them all

 

 

They call to me the destroyers

 

death

illness

fear

loss

 

they no longer astound me

I wear them all

 

they wind around my heart and

like the cage without the jungle

bring me to my knees

loosen and pry my grip

my dreams of reality

disintegrate

one by one

 

and my eyes

react to this blinding light

 

love falls.

 

the taste of tears

mingles

with the ashes

and the frost

 

and the fire light is dim now

and the fire is burning out

 

as the salt consumes

All.

 

 

Love to All,

All to Love,

 

Anna

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Nisargadatta , " anabebe57 " <kailashana wrote:

>

> Nisargadatta , " roberibus111 "

> <Roberibus111@> wrote:

> >

> > Nisargadatta , " anabebe57 " <kailashana@>

> wrote:

> > >

> > > Nisargadatta , " fmraerdy " <mybox234@> wrote:

> > > >

> > > > Nisargadatta , " toombaru2006 " <lastrain@>

> wrote:

> > > > > This is who you are.

> > > > >

> > > > > This is why you were born.

> > > >

> > > > Nope.

> > > > Still with the " intellectual " prestidigitation, eh toombaya?

> > > > Skill with the word is no sign of anything special,

> > > > but the power of the word over your neurons.

> > > > Still doing their bidding, eh toombaya?

> > > >

> > > > " This " (your word, not mine) is not " who you are! "

> > > > " This " (your word, not mind) is not " why you were born! "

> > > >

> > > > Still with the " intellectual " prestidigitation, eh toombaya?

> > > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > > there is a strange river,

> > > from which no one returns

> > >

> > > the stars weep

> > > when the curtain falls.

> > >

> > > ;-)

> >

> >

> >

> > there is no such river.

> >

> > nothing is 'strange'.

> >

> > stars don't weep.

> >

> > there is no curtain and most certainly no falling.

> >

> > there is no escape.

> >

> > nothing started and nothing ends.

> >

> > there's nowhere to go and nothing to talk about.

> >

> > face it...toomie is wrong.

> >

> > .b bobji baba

> >

>

>

>

> ah...darling Roberto, the river of no return flows from the mouth

> of " I Am " , returning to the sea of infinity.

>

>

> FIRE AND SALT:

>

> They call to me the harbingers:

>

> the ashes

> the frost

> the light

> the fire

>

> they no longer astound me

> I wear them all

>

> my skin

> my tongue

> my hair

> my soul

>

> know

> intimately

> this moment

> as the light shatters all

>

> ... leaves a sticky residue

>

>

> They call to me the bestowers

>

> lovers

> friends

> family

> enemies

>

> they no longer astound me

> I wear them all

>

> like another skin

> sometimes grasping

> sometimes denying

> my heart of hearts

>

> they stick to me

> like the scent of green papayas

> like the taste of honey

>

> ... I wear them all

>

>

> They call to me the destroyers

>

> death

> illness

> fear

> loss

>

> they no longer astound me

> I wear them all

>

> they wind around my heart and

> like the cage without the jungle

> bring me to my knees

> loosen and pry my grip

> my dreams of reality

> disintegrate

> one by one

>

> and my eyes

> react to this blinding light

>

> love falls.

>

> the taste of tears

> mingles

> with the ashes

> and the frost

>

> and the fire light is dim now

> and the fire is burning out

>

> as the salt consumes

> All.

>

>

> Love to All,

> All to Love,

>

> Anna

 

 

 

 

 

nice poem..

 

nice fantasy.

 

whatever gets you through the night.

 

..b b.b.

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Nisargadatta , " roberibus111 "

<Roberibus111 wrote:

>

> Nisargadatta , " anabebe57 " <kailashana@>

wrote:

> >

> > Nisargadatta , " roberibus111 "

> > <Roberibus111@> wrote:

> > >

> > > Nisargadatta , " anabebe57 " <kailashana@>

> > wrote:

> > > >

> > > > Nisargadatta , " fmraerdy " <mybox234@>

wrote:

> > > > >

> > > > > Nisargadatta , " toombaru2006 "

<lastrain@>

> > wrote:

> > > > > > This is who you are.

> > > > > >

> > > > > > This is why you were born.

> > > > >

> > > > > Nope.

> > > > > Still with the " intellectual " prestidigitation, eh toombaya?

> > > > > Skill with the word is no sign of anything special,

> > > > > but the power of the word over your neurons.

> > > > > Still doing their bidding, eh toombaya?

> > > > >

> > > > > " This " (your word, not mine) is not " who you are! "

> > > > > " This " (your word, not mind) is not " why you were born! "

> > > > >

> > > > > Still with the " intellectual " prestidigitation, eh toombaya?

> > > > >

> > > >

> > > >

> > > >

> > > >

> > > > there is a strange river,

> > > > from which no one returns

> > > >

> > > > the stars weep

> > > > when the curtain falls.

> > > >

> > > > ;-)

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > > there is no such river.

> > >

> > > nothing is 'strange'.

> > >

> > > stars don't weep.

> > >

> > > there is no curtain and most certainly no falling.

> > >

> > > there is no escape.

> > >

> > > nothing started and nothing ends.

> > >

> > > there's nowhere to go and nothing to talk about.

> > >

> > > face it...toomie is wrong.

> > >

> > > .b bobji baba

> > >

> >

> >

> >

> > ah...darling Roberto, the river of no return flows from the mouth

> > of " I Am " , returning to the sea of infinity.

> >

> >

> > FIRE AND SALT:

> >

> > They call to me the harbingers:

> >

> > the ashes

> > the frost

> > the light

> > the fire

> >

> > they no longer astound me

> > I wear them all

> >

> > my skin

> > my tongue

> > my hair

> > my soul

> >

> > know

> > intimately

> > this moment

> > as the light shatters all

> >

> > ... leaves a sticky residue

> >

> >

> > They call to me the bestowers

> >

> > lovers

> > friends

> > family

> > enemies

> >

> > they no longer astound me

> > I wear them all

> >

> > like another skin

> > sometimes grasping

> > sometimes denying

> > my heart of hearts

> >

> > they stick to me

> > like the scent of green papayas

> > like the taste of honey

> >

> > ... I wear them all

> >

> >

> > They call to me the destroyers

> >

> > death

> > illness

> > fear

> > loss

> >

> > they no longer astound me

> > I wear them all

> >

> > they wind around my heart and

> > like the cage without the jungle

> > bring me to my knees

> > loosen and pry my grip

> > my dreams of reality

> > disintegrate

> > one by one

> >

> > and my eyes

> > react to this blinding light

> >

> > love falls.

> >

> > the taste of tears

> > mingles

> > with the ashes

> > and the frost

> >

> > and the fire light is dim now

> > and the fire is burning out

> >

> > as the salt consumes

> > All.

> >

> >

> > Love to All,

> > All to Love,

> >

> > Anna

>

>

>

>

>

> nice poem..

>

> nice fantasy.

>

> whatever gets you through the night.

>

> .b b.b.

>

 

 

There is ONLY this dream of night and day ;-)

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Nisargadatta , " anabebe57 " <kailashana wrote:

>

> Nisargadatta , " roberibus111 "

> <Roberibus111@> wrote:

> >

> > Nisargadatta , " anabebe57 " <kailashana@>

> wrote:

> > >

> > > Nisargadatta , " roberibus111 "

> > > <Roberibus111@> wrote:

> > > >

> > > > Nisargadatta , " anabebe57 " <kailashana@>

> > > wrote:

> > > > >

> > > > > Nisargadatta , " fmraerdy " <mybox234@>

> wrote:

> > > > > >

> > > > > > Nisargadatta , " toombaru2006 "

> <lastrain@>

> > > wrote:

> > > > > > > This is who you are.

> > > > > > >

> > > > > > > This is why you were born.

> > > > > >

> > > > > > Nope.

> > > > > > Still with the " intellectual " prestidigitation, eh toombaya?

> > > > > > Skill with the word is no sign of anything special,

> > > > > > but the power of the word over your neurons.

> > > > > > Still doing their bidding, eh toombaya?

> > > > > >

> > > > > > " This " (your word, not mine) is not " who you are! "

> > > > > > " This " (your word, not mind) is not " why you were born! "

> > > > > >

> > > > > > Still with the " intellectual " prestidigitation, eh toombaya?

> > > > > >

> > > > >

> > > > >

> > > > >

> > > > >

> > > > > there is a strange river,

> > > > > from which no one returns

> > > > >

> > > > > the stars weep

> > > > > when the curtain falls.

> > > > >

> > > > > ;-)

> > > >

> > > >

> > > >

> > > > there is no such river.

> > > >

> > > > nothing is 'strange'.

> > > >

> > > > stars don't weep.

> > > >

> > > > there is no curtain and most certainly no falling.

> > > >

> > > > there is no escape.

> > > >

> > > > nothing started and nothing ends.

> > > >

> > > > there's nowhere to go and nothing to talk about.

> > > >

> > > > face it...toomie is wrong.

> > > >

> > > > .b bobji baba

> > > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > > ah...darling Roberto, the river of no return flows from the mouth

> > > of " I Am " , returning to the sea of infinity.

> > >

> > >

> > > FIRE AND SALT:

> > >

> > > They call to me the harbingers:

> > >

> > > the ashes

> > > the frost

> > > the light

> > > the fire

> > >

> > > they no longer astound me

> > > I wear them all

> > >

> > > my skin

> > > my tongue

> > > my hair

> > > my soul

> > >

> > > know

> > > intimately

> > > this moment

> > > as the light shatters all

> > >

> > > ... leaves a sticky residue

> > >

> > >

> > > They call to me the bestowers

> > >

> > > lovers

> > > friends

> > > family

> > > enemies

> > >

> > > they no longer astound me

> > > I wear them all

> > >

> > > like another skin

> > > sometimes grasping

> > > sometimes denying

> > > my heart of hearts

> > >

> > > they stick to me

> > > like the scent of green papayas

> > > like the taste of honey

> > >

> > > ... I wear them all

> > >

> > >

> > > They call to me the destroyers

> > >

> > > death

> > > illness

> > > fear

> > > loss

> > >

> > > they no longer astound me

> > > I wear them all

> > >

> > > they wind around my heart and

> > > like the cage without the jungle

> > > bring me to my knees

> > > loosen and pry my grip

> > > my dreams of reality

> > > disintegrate

> > > one by one

> > >

> > > and my eyes

> > > react to this blinding light

> > >

> > > love falls.

> > >

> > > the taste of tears

> > > mingles

> > > with the ashes

> > > and the frost

> > >

> > > and the fire light is dim now

> > > and the fire is burning out

> > >

> > > as the salt consumes

> > > All.

> > >

> > >

> > > Love to All,

> > > All to Love,

> > >

> > > Anna

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> > nice poem..

> >

> > nice fantasy.

> >

> > whatever gets you through the night.

> >

> > .b b.b.

> >

>

>

> There is ONLY this dream of night and day ;-)

 

 

 

 

:-)

 

who mentioned 'dreams'?

 

what exactly is a dream?

 

i could never figure 'that' out...or 'in'.

 

go figure.

 

..b b.baba

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