triumph of the flower

the yearning for beauty is the proof for universal existence of ugliness.

the greatest blade is not that one nourishes and transforming all to good and beautiful, the mystified enlivening blade, the lotus paradise, the cross, the book, the Kampf, the hero.

but the blade that cuts off the need of such an urge. for urge proves weakness of impotency.

the greatest cut is one against the flesh of the universe, it must cut through blood vessels, it must bisect the artery of the futile and vain

to make flesh perfect, it must bleed like virgin, or blow like a flower, or snow that must melt.

in the scattering of spirit into ash i see the greastest reassurance of my love triumphing against all obstacles, in the form of a chisel driven by the hammer of minds might.

the scattering of flower petals has the primeval form of the perfect cut against the universe.