Angry At Acronyms

The fake syrup

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Pat a pet plant on the pistil and put it in a pot on a pedestal, polish it with pastel pride, and pepper it with potassium prizes. Preach it profound parables of perennial patience from a phosphate podium and a passionate pew of puzzled peaches. Paint it a potent, palpable and precious planet poised with peaceful powers and plastic perks. Plaster it with prurient pocket payphones and precociously playful porn. Paper over the poverties and paralyses. Package up the pleasantries and perfidities. Pad the plushest pillows and pierce the prestigious pikes. Pray to the puritan prairies and patch the pumpkin pies. Perfect the pivotal punctuations and pinch the pungent pines. Pedal the *pom-pom* pink prom petals and panache the pastiche pavement plights. Perish the Paramount pixel parents and preen the Poppy's pinwheel plumes. Park it in Pleiades' plum-packed presence, and paste it in Pagans' prism perfumes


The ego as a metaphysical ailment, or as a topic worthy of ten thousand self help books, is misguided. It creates a sense of spiritually sparring with something that exists in nature and that is somehow ’below the dignity’ of spiritual engagement. True self sees right past the illusions of ego, yet understands the physical nature and necessity of its individuating faculty. But to a nascent seeker of psychological vitamins, putting them into the idealistic trap of a war of their ego against their self, or their spirit against their ego, only compounds confusion. And yet to say that there is even a distinction here only serves to create more divisions, or more ideas of division: this insight against that insight. The ego exists as naturally and as interconnectedly as your hand is distinguished from and interrelated (by a whole) to your foot. To isolate one and use it to try to eradicate the other, breaks the whole game. You know how and for what purposes to use each, without any training or admonitions. And in truth

there is only the floating moon