77.verbatim

I’ll tell you. Every dream you’ve ever had, Baba, the pictures are still in your mind. I have hundreds. Infinite. I don’t know how to choose what to tell you. The mind never dies, Baba. Even if you die, the mind doesn’t die. Because the soul, Baba. The soul is the battery of the mind.

Pretend we’re standing up and we have clothes on. We’re not in the bath. And I’m teaching you to play the flute.

This entry was posted in Writing. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s