I felt that my face was made of sand and that the wind was blowing some of the grains away, changing its contours as it might shift dunes.
        One can have as one's goal the elimination of one's holding goals; that's even considered a high calling, by the Buddhists anyway; but the reason one was born cannot be to understand that one was born for no reason.
        You can't pick and choose your dreams, your hallucinations. But you are always free to judge them. The mystery of assigning value: One can like pearls without much liking oysters. Just so perhaps God without much liking people still assigns us our quota of beauty to secrete, assigns us our grain of sand.
 
 














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