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Life is too short for boring stories

We want to catch the moon as it is reflected in the water and its reflection is smoothed and distorted by the waves. We want to catch the moon as it shines brightly and sparkling in the water, how he is teasing himself and playing with the impermanence of water. We want to catch the moon when he lets himself drift and tearfully drift in front of us in the wet element. We want to catch the moon and jump into it, in the midst of the mirroring us, dive in, let us encompass of drops by drop by drop.

We want to catch the moon, and it is only a deception, one of which we knew and which we were tempted to lure. Where did she go? But we have already dived. Just because something is not visible does not mean that it is not there. We want to catch the moon, and he has caught us. The touch of the water, the gentle embrace, we accept and know ourselves in the middle. We close our eyes to give space to sensuality, to the experience of the gentle and wet and comprehensive. We are completely immersed, fully accepted. Not caught, no, recorded, well-preserved. The water wants to hold us, weigh like a child in his bed. Exit and return, living and perpetual, changing and enduring. Drop by drop, which they each stay for themselves, yet so united that it is no longer possible to separate them from each other, and yet they can separate from each other, and form small pearls on our skin, in order to escape again to separate again, like an eternal dance after the melody which is indwelling to them.

I will rinse you, like the water, gently occupy and lodge, touch you and enliven, surround you with me, wholeheartedly, will merge with you to remain yourself, will bring me into you so that the borders will be extinguished but the ever-re-solving of each other is possible. And I will find myself in you, accepted and accommodated. We jumped into the water to catch the moon, and the moon picked us up and the water picked us up, and we arose, and the moon gave us free, and the water gave us free, and we gave ourselves free to us, and still the reflection in us that aroused the desire, but also the moon itself, as the water, as we do, pure and pure and genuine, and the reflection became the tangible and the tangible lies in ours hands and we have not been accessed but let it be, do not have it and want to keep it, but just amazed and smiled. And over the moon and the water and we found ourselves in the self which no longer needed to dissipate and conceal, but lost itself in the invitation to the eternity of the moment, and found itself divided and become one, surrendering and is given away, to arrive, to surrender and to be given.

Thus it is, in myself, through that in us, through the water, through the reflection of the moon, to the true and the permanent. So it is in us when we are.

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