Man Is A Demon, Man

What Worked Yesterday Doesn't Always Work Today.

I Was Not Rescued By A Prince; I Was The Administrator Of My Own Rescue.

Well, Just Remember--all Your Misery Will Be Waiting For You At The Door Upon Your Exit, Should You Care To Pick It Up Again When You Leave.

But He [depression] Just Gives Me That Dark Smile, Settles Into My Favorite Chair, Puts His Feet On My Table And Lights A Cigar, Filling The Place With His Awful Smoke. Loneliness Watches And Sighs, Then Climbs Into My Bed And Pulls The Covers Over Himself, Fully Dressed, Shoes And All. He's Going To Make Me Sleep With Him Again Tonight, I Just Know It.

So I Stood Up And Did A Handstand On My Guru's Roof, To Celebrate The Notion Of Liberation. I Felt The Dusty Tiles Under My Hands. I Felt My Own Strength And Balance. I Felt The Easy Night Breeze On The Palms Of My Bare Feet. This Kind Of Thing -- A Spontaneous Handstand--isn't Something A Disembodied Cool Blue Soul Can Do, But A Human Being Can Do It. We Have Hands; We Can Stand On Them If We Want To. That's Our Privilege. That's The Joy Of A Mortal Body. And That's Why God Needs Us. Because God Loves To Feel Things Through Our Hands.