John Saward – October 19, 2017 at 01:18PM

‘The picture I gradually built for myself was that once I “noticed” what my response to a stimulus was, I could consciously choose a different response.’

— Abe Moses

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John Saward – October 19, 2017 at 09:27AM

He went on, as she continued to gaze out the train window at the never-ending desert.

“I am being a little bit poetic when I say that. I mean that when we cross to the other side it seems to the ones left behind that we have died. But to us we are just going on progressing our lives and still interacting with another version of the ones we left behind. In that way the ones left behind know for a fact that somebody died but those people who seem to have died have no idea they are dead nor any idea that people think they are dead. Pretty weird I know and that it why I say it is poetic. But lots of things are weird, poetic and true also.”

She turned her head towards him and whispered, “I like a good poem. A poetic mind makes me sit up and take notice. Sometimes I cry. Do you cry sometimes?”

He looked a little confused. But he replied, “Yes, I do.”

She smiled. “Some day I want to cry together with you.”

He now turned his head toward the desert the train was passing through and a tear dropped down his face. She saw the tear and wiped her own eye with the corner of her scarf.

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John Saward – October 19, 2017 at 09:08AM

She asked him once how much money he actually had. He always seemed to be able to pay for anything with his credit card.

Usually he didn’t even ask the price, he would just pass the card to the cashier with a ‘add 10% for the service please’.

He looked a bit surprised when she asked, and mumbled something about a million dollars.

She was still curious so she asked him at the rate he spent money how long his million would last.

Again he looked surprised and said “I always have a million left on my card”.

She decided she liked this man.

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John Saward – October 19, 2017 at 09:06AM

‘“What are we here for if not to enjoy life eternal, solve what problems we can, give light, peace and joy to our fellow-man, and leave this dear fucked-up planet a little healtheir than when we were born.

Who knows what other planets we will be visiting and what new wonders there will unfold?

We certainly live more than once. Do we ever die – that is the question.

In any case, thank God we are alive and of the stars – unto all eternity.


— Henry Miller

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