Barrio Satsang/the Big House

[Guest guest]

In the big house, everyone thought Ananda was Buddha's

bitch. It wasn't so. They were just cousins and good

friends. It's true, that Ananda's admiration for the

older man seemed excessive. It didn't help that

Ananda's body was curvaceous, effeminate, not a

feather on him, a soft, plump bod, seemingly, ready to

be fuck. Buddha was handsome too, but in a manly way.

 

Anyway, Avatars, prophets, and gurus are often suspected

of enlightening their disciple's rear ends. Some say,

Jesus blessed John that way. Many inmates daydreamed

with raping Ananda, but dared not. Buddha had a fearsome

rep. It was rumored, he only had to give you the evil eye

and you were as good as dead, or worse. Terrible things

seemed to happen naturally to those who messed with the

B. dude.

 

Buddha was born an alpha dog, scary but magnetic, smart,

funny, with a way with words. People loved to hang around

and listen to him. Some said, he was a prince, the descendant

of a Mayan king. Certainly, he was raised in a palace, as

his mother called the project they lived in. He was the only

son of a white whore, and a Guatemalan pimp.

 

No one knows for sure why Buddha was sent to be big house.

Rumors abound. Some said, he was a serial killer; others,

an arsonist. A few, said, fraud, or for sure, identity theft.

He always claimed to be completely innocent. Not ever to

have done a single thing.

 

Certainly, he had issues, whether or not they were crimes.

His mother had spoiled him rotten. He expected only the best,

and that being a recipe for trouble, always, landed him in worse.

 

Alone in his cell, he resolved to find a cure for this pain

in the ass called life. He cogitated, speculated, meditated,

and pounded his brain hard, and by grace, destiny, or chance

four noble truths landed on his lap:

 

Life, no matter what, sooner or later, sucks.

 

Life sucks because shit happens the moment

you're born:

 

Getting old sucks, getting sick sucks, pain

sucks, sadness sucks, dying sucks. Craving

and not getting what one wants, sucks;

losing what we got, sucks. That satisfaction

never lasts, sucks. That we never learn that

it all sucks, and give it up, sucks.

 

How come this is so? We are conscious, and

crave fun, and fear the funk.

 

What to do?

 

Be cool. Be totally cold. In absolute cold

no thing moves, even molecules stop shaking,

dude. So be cool, and let things come and go

as they will. It's a movie, dude. It's not

you, you are not in it, you are not the star.

No thing is happening to you. You're not even

in the theater, homei. You, are just a character

in a dream dreaming that it is not a dream.

 

Cease and desist: Nirodha, extinction, nirvana

they are cool words, dude. Be, as if you were not.

 

This is the eightfold way, chum:

See right, mean right, aim right, b.s. right, do

right, gig right, think right, keep your eye on

the ball, don't fall asleep at the wheel, dude.

 

Pete