Seeing beautiful things - angel wings forming at
my arm’s ends - with their own ethereal charms
as I swim - gilded bedroom walls when slanting
sun shines in with much amazing debonair joy so
alien to my tortured mind, catching the white
Baskets with flowers & Pappageno’s song on
the radio, the sparkling transparent glassware
& the white net-curtain tablecloth; everything
deepens feeling of chemical depression after a
lovely Sunday family dinner enjoyed together
I have a feeling of growing foreboding as today
has been lost to my brain imploding - assailed
by allergy foods, mealie bread, chocolate and
fruit pastilles, a veritable feast, yet the price is
too high - I shall try to follow the virtuous road
Preached by Lobsang Rampa, eating sparse
boring food as it increases spirituality - in my
case by refraining from cursing secretly as my
head shrinks in pain - and I hate everything &
everyone - especially myself for feeling so
Very bad, responsible for my own suffering, &
knowing that a Tibetan diet would be good for
me - if only I could get hold of yak-butter tea
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