The way out of the harbor is narrow. And why would I want to sail, anyway? Toward nothingness, toward an uncertain universe? I cannot stay here, in the gossip-ridden village of my mind.
A brave companion helps, perhaps the memory of a good dog. I learn to apply friendship to very complicated states of mind, which hiss and writhe, whisper false prophecy. I do not believe, for they call upon tender wounds with salt for bandages, because I practice allowing for the presence of kindness, which loves before thinking.
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