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mystical philosophur

I wondered around in a daze not sure if I was dead or alive. Actually I was neither. But I was dynamic. What to do next?

A kindly woman saw me and took my hand. "Come with me and learn math and disipline". I shook my head. I already learned that lesson a long time ago. A life I forgot.

A shy kid came up to me, bleeding; showing off his scars he announced: "A six inch gash is all you need to be accepted now!" "Do you want me to cut you?" Again I shook my head. I didnt care to be accepted. Or I didnt know why I should be so.

One really mean girl set up shop and thought I was worth a try as trainee but I bombed out my first day. I was selling dirt and I said so. "How do you get off being so honest?" "Your fired" she said.

I creeped around a cornor and went down an alley. All the doors were shut tight. But one seemed oddly compelling. And warm to the touch! I looked back and a small crowd had gathered. They smiled at me. Why?

I looked back at the door. It was glowing red. I looked back at the small group. No words were ushered now but their hands were cupped in ways to make simple symbols: the square, circle and triangle.
Now I begain to remember. I pulled on the door handle. The door flew open and immense flames shot out. Nothing could survive such a heat.

One last time I looked back at my friends. They smiled and waved. Willingly I jumped into the fire - there to be refined into something I knew not what to expect.

That is why I find everything so interesting and aspire to be philospher - mystic.

>george

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Serafine Anthony Lemos - Hayward, CA, USA