Alone. At last.

Who cares.  Who is looking at you?  No one.  I take a shower in the realization that it's only me.  I want to cleanse myself.  The mirror means nothing to me.  I'm refreshing myself to myself.  And I love it.  You are beautiful the way you want to be.  And I love it.

Poison Two: Attachment

Leo is a turtle and has beautiful dreams.  We often share our vivid imaginations of the night past over morning tea.  Since he’s British we always opt for Earl Grey, but sometimes when he’s not looking I’ll make Irish Breakfast.

His last dream was that the I Ching was inscribed on his shell.  I didn’t tell him, but I can see faint signs of the hexagrams, which makes me quite happy (for him, of course).

Recently, Leo told me of his day dreams.  He spoke majestically in his British accent and said that he had felt my energetic communication with him.  But then he wasn’t sure if it was real.  And so he opened his third eye and tried to listen a bit more intently.

But perhaps it was just a day dream of his own imagination.  An unfortunate attack of the second poison.  He admitted he didn’t think it was wise to day dream about the unreal too much.

I told him not to worry.  The first step is recognition.  And besides, I do like to energetically converse with him.