Germans are getting older and older. Families with children have less money than the old ones. So it gets harder each year to sell toys.
Any outer master, any outer master,
has the job to bring you to the Inner Master.
| My Mimamai has an oppressing feeling this Christmas Market.
Her little sales doesn't bring so much profit like the years before. All
years her income is loosing a bit. Germans are getting older and older. Families with children have less money than the old ones. So it gets harder each year to sell toys. |
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| For me in my Grandfather age of 60 years soon it's a
wonderful blessing to demonstrate a little toy in front of the astonished
eyes of a little child. It feels like a connection to G*D or to the root of
existence. Mimamai has the cheapest prices on the market. So she doesn't earn much from a sold item. But when people don't stop and she can't sell much at her long, long days, Mimamai is sad. And a sad salesman is a bad salesman. |
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| 25 years ago I have sold insurances. Some successful days I
made 1000 German Marks. Now I help Mimamai to sell a tractor with trailer
for 30 Euros. We are happy. 10 years ago I drove for 30, 40 Marks with the same VW Golf Diesel from Munich to Bamberg and back again. These days 50 Euros for gas oil are needed for the same distance. |
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| But I feel happy, that the prices are high! It's such a
terrible waste of energy of the 'luxurious western countries'. Life feels
like a criminal exploiting the poor ones. Air pollution in industrial
countries destroys the agriculture in Africa. Parts of Bangladesh are
flooded several times like New Orleans once. Firestorms destroy people, houses, trees and animals. The winners of the industrial earth destruction are loosing ground. That's the reason why I accept less income. I'm glad to pay more for gas oil! |
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| Born after eight month my lost little life was nearer to
death than to life. Somehow the love of my mother and father brought me into
life. My Mimamai is the treasure of my life. When we first made love like berserk 11 years ago my Mimamai was nothing but a poor, simple market woman. Mimamai will never write an Internet mail in a chat board. All she knows about web mail, I try to teach her. But she teaches my heart to love! And the wisdom of love is the wisdom of life. Therefore Mimamai is my Master. In boring hours in my job, when n0by group is going into silence, I watch sometimes the young maiden from yellow press. They show their wonderful bodies, ready to invite males for fertilisation. Her bodies are programmed for beauty and birth. |
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| For my daughter I have collected holyday picturess on a USB
stick. Most pictures are from Mimamai. When I watch her body happy and
tender feelings warm up my heart. She is such a simple woman but has
everything my heart is longing for. It's such a secret, a sexual secret of
love. And when I watch pictures of Anand Sunkanpally, his wife and kids
similar feelings warm my heart. Therefore Mimamai is my Master on a simple earth bound way. More Master's love and compassion is shining in Mima's being showering my poor little life with joy, lust and empathy. |
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From Mimamai's teaching is a direct connection to all Masters and to Mother Nature, the High Priest of all Masters. Sure my red wine at night opens up the mystery of happiness after a fulfilled day, a fulfilled week and a nearly fulfilled year. Tears of thankfulness fill my eyes, thankfully for friends company in our group gathering in vision of 'nobody' but with so much ugly ego of mine - and guess I'm not the only one! |
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| Doesn't matter! Let's be the ugly ones in ugly fights. But
in our exhaustion after a while beauty is found. After the virtual boxing
match even OZAY robot with n0by quarrels gets in the arms of Arihanta or
Mimamai to cry some silent tears. Nothing we are: Like a snow flake melting - a leave from the tree of life. Our letters are nothing. Nothing is left from us. |
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| But for a smile or an emotion of rage some blood is moved to
our heart. When existence showers some mercy on us, feelings of love crack
up our male armour. Our robot like defence steals breaks up and the light of
love brings some feelings a robot never has know: feeling of love, feeling
of life, a feeling of nothingness. That's it! Thank you! Special thanks for teachers who have suffered in all the hard years of dirty work inside! Thanks for the teachers touching some lights in us. Thanks for staying together because we are so isolated that we need to connect in Cyber Space. |
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