The eyes need the massive complexity of trees / The mind needs the obscene complexity of waves Our ancestral, sun-worshipping, springboards
Comparison is the thief of joy, compares thief and joy. And if joy was thieved, then comparison would be in possession of joy. Stolen joy, sure, but hey. If joy ain't for sharing, and worth stealing, what is. And if your joy is so easily stolen by mere juxtaposition, then was it really joy at all? True joy revels in being stolen, because it already knows it belongs to everyone. True joy enjoys even the hint of comparison, where it can play in the colourful fields of contrast, and cultivate the varieties of eyes' spices. But if you're going to take it so seriously and cling to it so dearly, desire it so fervently and pilfer it so mercilessly, then joy will steal itself away, for you to compare with silly, and return a little joy to your face, by whacking you with a lily 🌺
Do you not trust the fact, that the earth is floating in space? When your feet are on its ground, and unsteady in their gait?
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