I can almost hear the music. Goa, India. 1994

“To trip and write at the same time is a novel experience! It is contrary to flowing. It is physical, constant, mental awareness. Forcing myself in.

I don’t think this trip is as clean as it might have been as I feel a bit queasy, but otherwise what is is showing me?

Spaghetti Beach.

Much the same as before, but no longer the sprawling, idyllic mystery of before. In the reality, a freely bleeding paradise.

Although I do love being able to stop and have a sip of paradise, I see the rubbish today.

I also see this tolerant land sustaining it all relatively happily. Mutual human benefits win over.

But then I see the sea, the trees, the land.

I remember this awareness of the land and I wonder at this seed of doubt, that is, what will, if I don’t avoid it, eventually be exactly what destroys the dream.

To make the dream a living reality maintains me, motivates me.

We choose our paths.

This is a tough one.

I choose.”

(2015 .. and then, presumably, I got up to dance again!)

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