Works
One Life, Black and White Shadow Paintings
Author:
Categories: words and feelings
Statuses: Updating
The first time she met him was next to a row of rotating sutra cylinders, his back to the sun, hands folded, nodding to her. He was the most Buddhist man she had ever seen, and she later realized that he had walked all the way from hell, through mountains of swords and seas of fire, to be able to stand there. In this world, how can it be either black or white, and how has it ever been either one or the other. Since I can't figure out who owes who, and since I still have wine in my arms, I might as well make a cocoon like a silkworm, run around, and get drunk until I die. --I'm going to the abyss. This article will be published two to three times a week. I'll be back in the next chapter!