Intuitive Insight: Buddhadasa Bhikkhu

Intuitive Insight: Buddhadasa Bhikkhu.

One will never attain self-actualization in just rational thinking. It is true that the more malleable we are to function and our own longitude and latitude, the more fierce and digressive we are when it is openness. One’s own progressive strategy is un-important. The rest is study.
Self-study and world-study. Those with a voice can be seen to find the aphorisms of truth and peace.
I remember documenting this very subject when I was attempting to look for a progressive harmony between the valid and the mind itself.
People usually talk about mind and when they do it usually centers around figurative talk; because we generally talk about key elements of experience and when we do, there is a missing piece which is the Apprehension of mind and the body goes with it.
There for, universal meaning is squandered by the apprehensive idealism un-assumed by the mutative self-study.


Journalism for the sacred world

At the edge, a seamless window feeling dark because of a girl’s loss. People stare but do not realize she’s offending the operator. And without news of darkness, no one can tell this feminine turmoil. The bit of over cast to the inter cosmic consumer theorium begins where the light of calculated being comes at the first of Orion’s pass. Slowly stepping off the balcony, the widowers have sight to see the lampshade when it is figured. We look and vaguely see the effort of crime victims who steer the direction of advancement and fear. Who does this head belong to? Even though I have tried to answer the deepest questions in life, my resonance with the prism of nil-neuronal self feels the most comfortable. It’s almost as if I’ve just begun to focus on the sensations of the effigy that I found while working on a detail in the artwork.
Perhaps the reason is just to contain the passage of recognition.
Perhaps it’s all seen through the eyes of a passer.
The interior vacancy is the calm of knowing I can get there. I am getting there. I am working real hard. My friendships are stable, my achievements keep moving, I’m going by. This is at least the point where monuments become seen as the friendship between self and truth. The obstacles like behavioral darkness and fixed concentration reveal the open spaces of communication in the inner levies of function.
At the most, one deal of bad omen is just enough to break apart the shovel of working to make it worse. The approach seen to forgive a mental instrument for it’s breaching is the conditioning of the love of order and pragmatism in order that the heart will not crumble.
The two things in modern make up that allow for reasoning to follow are the truthfully free and the truthfully freeing.
The truthfully free is trueness to self. It is the relationship between you and your love. Your love can go anywhere it wants and you can share that and do wonderful things and that’s freeing. Truth is realizing that it will never be you who gets to feel free. Freedom ended a long time ago. It’s up to you to be you and express it all. Once the obstacle is solved, the thing is not so free. It takes getting back to that and staring off for awhile to notice just how fresh it was when it first started.

Truthfully freeing aspects share the commonality of bias and hypocrisy and wound the blanket of wellbeing that we need as living students of the earth. The make up of a rehearsed inclination leads one to dissolve the source of their strength (they didn’t even know it existed). I sit here, man sits. I’m shattered at the profound hate everywhere. The disease that doesn’t sink in until it hits. The main reason why suffering is a part of this place is because the individual does not allow the publication of his work to float laterally over the part of humanity that is free. Every good thing that gets negated is a logic to being thrown off the grid, saved for later and used in a more present-day order and that hurts things.
The trueness that is You is so unique and amazing that if I were to show you [through some kind of cleanse and refresh attempt) the ways of your surface-being (which dwells is lies, etc.), the change may create an artistic rediscovery of the human form.

Yet, if I were to capture our moments together, the easiness would dissolve onto dense, corrective temperature, making the love between us wither. You sold out, I moved on. There are no annexations in this progressive situation to be horrified of. Yet, there is an easy way to remember what dancing feels like when it’s made possible.

Perhaps when the planetary system and our bodies sing in this pool, we will know ourselves and truthfully speak, truthfully be, truthfully exist, truthfully express, truthfully disseminate, truthfully receive, truthfully accept, truthfully love. And a lot of love will be seen in an honest sky light. That sky light might be the president, or you or the mayor. We’ll see that whatever we do to feel good about ourselves, the dissemination of that yoga is affected in the cosmos. We see authors of love everywhere. This vehicle of our love does not use up the given substance apropos function.

The yoga itself is what makes it so interesting.

Complex Year

Feel me drop here

let me walk along this discord

In the prowess of hurdles and find forth

a blind deer, a copper wire.

Brave people in a shallow blossoming, do like old ways and admin of cooling.  Something at last, a bit here and there at last.  As a sarcasm note, but not eschewed.  Council, cornered.  Residing there in a hollow thirst frame, but to be put on a ligament of spur and populace.  Pop for the regional, timely folk.  We arrive by the time the show has ended but work out the contents of our summation in years and fronts.  People with dash piers and collective progressionism, we work at the center of a living molecule for truth.  Then, as truthful as they are sometimes, not much gets by.  Without feeling as crust, the city as grueling and lonesome.  Many female have asked about that cauldrephobic in the bathroom.  I think he shot himself.  Doesn’t work like that (they told me).  He’s blackened on only one wrist left.

Frame needs a person to fit into.  But people bathe in the office of doom every day.  If the costume of God was a pre-arranged selective, God would be nourished.  Climb.  See for yourself.  Each dozen needs a socket.  For Christ’s veil we’ll have the sweat of each working girl.  Monologues of darkened etymology and scattered thought.  Where do the bugs in our coffee go when we don’t drink from it?  Defined by cosmology, she suits the thinking of his estrangement.  She will have a few drinks with him.  All is old, maybe new.  I can’t tell if the intention of a method is to divert or describe.  Those that can say they’ve learned a lot, practice me in silence.  Fear of the  entrance, fear of it all, love as a message.  Perhaps, the intricacy of this arrangement isn’t because of it’s purpose but it’s elation.  More than Mr. no age.  After the arrangement, amazement.

So, do not doubt.  Doubt could be better left un-utilized as it’s experience does not expose the feeling of elation.

acclimations of free form

one. Empty contents of head

two. Breathe in and out.

three. Music break

all through these energy is repeated, which I’ve done.

four. Punctuate self as the confidante of hearts peddled, shores intertwined, oblivious to nothing.

four familiar places out of reach.

Second revision

one. Correct whatever defusing

two. Be availed for neurosis involving formulated ideas

as these proceed, mother of all faith will allow for reverse automation

the third is emptiness