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Quote by Laughing Lion Silly Monkie

“They tried to teach me The infinite possibility Living inside as my soul Could be sold for some shiny metal That they called gold. But they couldn't reach Far enough inside of my mind With their warped rhymes To alter the golden etchings of wisdom That reminded me — Who I am — my soul — Is priceless beyond material prosperity — No matter its apparent luminosity — For all that lusters does so Because of grandiose exchanges of energy Between Earth and Sun...”

Quote by Laughing Lion Silly Monkie

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Rewilding Hypergraphia

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Laughing Lion Silly Monkie

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“The soul has her own currency. She mints her spiritual coinage and stamps it with the image of some beloved face. With it she pays her debts, with it she reckons, saying, “This man has worth, this man is worthless.” And in time she forgets its origin; it seems to her to be a thing unalterable, divine. But the soul can also have her bankruptcies. Perhaps she will be the richer in the end. In her agony she learns to reckon clearly. Fair as the coin may have been, it was not accurate; and though she knew it not, there were treasures that it could not buy. The face, however beloved, was mortal, and as liable as the soul herself to err. We do but shift responsibility by making a standard of the dead. There is, indeed, another coinage that bears on it not man’s image but God’s. It is incorruptible, and the soul may trust it safely; it will serve her beyond the stars. But it cannot give us friends, or the embrace of a lover, or the touch of children, for with our fellow mortals it has no concern. It cannot even give the joys we call trivial—fine weather, the pleasures of meat and drink, bathing and the hot sand afterwards, running, dreamless sleep. Have we learnt the true discipline of a bankruptcy if we turn to such coinage as this? Will it really profit us so much if we save our souls and lose the whole world?”

“But now the Light supreme is far away: Our conscious life obeys the inconscience’ laws; To ignorant purposes and blind desires Our hearts are moved by an ambiguous force; Even our mind’s conquests wear a battered crown. A slowly changing order binds our will. This is our doom until our souls are free. 02.05_043:025-027”