The simplicity of this  will blow your mind.

Nothing leaves this plane/t.
When you die your body decomposes and becomes soil. The gasses and liquids in your body evaporate and become air wich goes back up into the clouds.
From conception every drop of water your mother drank and every fruit or vegetable she ate, came from the clouds and soil that nourished her.
From birth you are made up of these cells from those cycles that will forever recycle until the end of time. You drink the same water that fell on this earth at the beginning of its life.

I do believe in a soul and spirit.
But you can now see.
YOU ARE EVERY PERSON YOU'VE EVER MET.

Knowledge comes with time,
brainpower does not.

If you never had deep thoughts as a child,
have you ever even really thought?

true knowledge so deep
we have to go forward slow
compassion and love

I.
Fireman, censor of literature and destroyer of knowledge, with his mighty flamethrower. He loves his work. He loves trouble and strife. He loves fascination with the people next door. Mostly, he loves his hammock. But sleep will be his final unrest.

II.
A gift for the darkness: reading from the forbidden kept hidden in the air-conditioning duct. The walls within turn on and off like Cora Pearl. His wife listens to far winds and whispers and soap-opera cries, sleep-walking, helped up and down curbs by a husband who might just as well not have been there. They walk on as an extinguished connection. In the flickering of his eyeballs, he dreams of driving recklessly to Dover Beach and drowning her.

III.
Burning bright. He is burning so brightly. In the factory of mirrors, he takes a hard look. He's a flammable book. And it's a pleasure to burn. "What are you doing?" She asks. "Putting one foot in front of another." He answers.