I simply dip the quill in the zafuAnd words drill at the tipThen I harvest them on a notebook.That is all there is to it.
From the bottom of the nightHe laid a hand on the notebookHolding on to a creviceOn a rocky face of the mountain,A desperate grip to
The more objects you own,The further lost you’ll be. After all those years spent fantasizing over induced desires, Coveting ready-made solutions to non-existing problems, Stacking
Old masters are my friendsLiving where I am is my daily occupationTying long blades of grass togetherSlowly repairing the hut, Though old masters are long
I am not this house
I am not this money.
Simplify your lifeLike you would simplify the terms of an equationUntil a few numbers remainSo you can understand them in a glance… … In a