Homeless in Paris Homeless in Paris | Page 142

B"H reputed pirates who never got beyond swabbing the deck . The true image of me portrays a speculative prognosis of everything that meets with disdain in the eyes of normal folks, but that simple cute face is there to assure everybody who countenances me , of my intrinsic righteous ness. Detaching from that is a feat and either way you skin the onion it co mes out as grandiose. A check to the distant past makes such fears small in my eyes , blink my eyes and it's gone. Pain isn't intrinsic to suffering; but to acco mplishment, it is. My determination of who I AM starts and ends with my internal expansion uniquely ; the soul I AM is responsible. It benefits me nothing to take offense at the degradation people are willing to heap on me, that's how they manage their internal expansion, maybe the way they see themselves in the eyes of others, who knows? I'm sure I spent a lot of time on doing things that caused people to become irate; as things go I'm usually sensitive to that reality , but they too, like to get in arguments about nothing - in order to escape the boredom of those mo ments. There's a complete social order about cutting into lines, waiting for your turn, etc. I always say, "If you can't be happy, act crazy, somebody else will probably laugh at you acting that way. " One should not laugh harshly in degrading tones but exude a warm and cozy smile to express patience, understanding, and the willingness to share, for as long a time as the voice takes until rejoins the silence. Don't chill, princely dukes or duchesses, warm up the silence with the quietness of breath. Or you can hee-haw like a donkey; grasping breath to enunciate the phoneme hee, exerting it to say eee awh (inhaling the vowel sound) and Auohm neitzak Echad - inhalin g also the guttural ch sound. Stay as calm as a cucumber, this too will pass. What analysis can I offer for the grandeur that co mposes my self-image? No words could describe the flex on the balloon like container in which I inflate my ego, you 'd have to see the way I dress, walk, eat, and co mport my ways . On the one hand, the episodes of thought may be seen as real occurrences, but why assume so when I AM ad mittedly detached fro m reality. Fro m the schizophrenic aspect of paranoia, I can imagine myself as an actor in the role of being human who the reader is readi ng about; but himself a character in the book written to include his looking into my story, by an author unbeknown to either of us. This corresponds to Judaic tradition that ponders free will in light o f 142