OBSESSED 🫶

Those who makes us feel included ❤️

There goes a myth of a land called Samarkand. A land where the rich are kind and the poor have god. A fisher man's son heard this story. He set out to find the place. On his way he ran out of food and water. Soon afterwards he came across four monks and asked them for these things. Three of the monks pounced on him. One just sat back and watched. The boy tried fighting them off but didn't manage. All the tension left his body after realising the futility of using his strength. When he came to he found food and water left where the fourth monk sat. The boy could have just laid there and die. Instead he drinks, eats, continues on his pilgrim, finds Samarkand and ends up being a prophet. I probably would have laid there and wished for death. I am not simple enough to cast away defilement like some worn out slippers. Those were simple times, no videos to serve as a constant reminder. I think individuality robs us of our innocence. By innocence I mean a mind that is free from hurt. Try to imagine that. Being so open to pain that you can accept it completely. Unlike fishermen, we are also not conditioned to be humble. We are always guarding our cornerstone, our story. Our minds are weak from worrying about what the men will do to us. It's unlikely that the men will change but supposing they do, a worrying mind will always find something to worry about. You will worry about the bees stinging you. You will worry about snakes. Bacteria and viruses. Ugly frogs trespassing on your feet. Life is a risky affair. As much as we guard our stories, virtue demands that we breathe out. Can there be freedom without virtue?

Night🌙
@hikayed

In Lana we say :