OSHO LOVES TO READ. He prefers it to watching movies or drinking with the boys. He reads away his coffee breaks. He reads while we’re feeding pigeons in the park. He reads while we’re on a trip to God-knows-where. He reads while in the john.
He reads alternative healing practices, hermetic studies and the Kabbala, and regularly visits Steiner in esoteric cyberspace.
His name isn’t really Osho but that’s how I like to call him. I used to call him Red for Redfield as his presence sometimes makes me feel like Marj of the Celestine Prophecy, but it didn’t stick. He says he’s done with being Red. Goethe would have been okay, if not for our perpetual debates on how to mouth the German name without practically going for each other’s throat (gerthi, or geuwthi?). So I called him Osho. My Osho. He will enlighten me through the most misunderstood, but powerful route to divine consciousness. We will study Tantra Yoga.
We declared a truce.
He reads alternative healing practices, hermetic studies and the Kabbala, and regularly visits Steiner in esoteric cyberspace.
His name isn’t really Osho but that’s how I like to call him. I used to call him Red for Redfield as his presence sometimes makes me feel like Marj of the Celestine Prophecy, but it didn’t stick. He says he’s done with being Red. Goethe would have been okay, if not for our perpetual debates on how to mouth the German name without practically going for each other’s throat (gerthi, or geuwthi?). So I called him Osho. My Osho. He will enlighten me through the most misunderstood, but powerful route to divine consciousness. We will study Tantra Yoga.
We declared a truce.
No comments:
Post a Comment