[UnbornBuddha]

A devoted monk named Angulima, who was once a killer, and a powerful Aristocrat named Pennyworth, who once renounced the world as a Bishop, met by coincidence and discussed the high and low matters of everyday beliefs and ideas that permeate our existence.

Aunglimala: Do you know Siddhartha, the universal author of numerous cosmos?
The Aristocrat answers with a humorous comment belittling the astuteness of martyrs.
"None of these martyrs could prevent their mother’s uterine cancer. Most are cheats too, few are masters.
Those who did tell the truth are sharper, yet even their wisdom only served the purpose of devising funeral gospels.
True power is a beautiful automobile or a priceless stone with a high mineral content".

Aunglimala: Are such substances powerful enough to engulf the pneumo involved in Lucifer’s stomachs,
Or halt with just a finger a gargantuan universe comet?
Pennyworth: Your Buddha meets Kafka when he chronicles canonical Pseudepigrapha
Pseudo concoctions which sustains itself on ghoulish consumption,
Hence why I call all religious psychobabble mutant productions.
No god can offer me tumor protection nor can it soothe my autoimmune condition.
I too once sought to prove my companionship to the father but became disillusioned by sickness,
Immobilized by Crohns and paralyzed by having lost two of my appendages
My bodily tissues had become like a broken music contraption
With strings which cannot be tuned or fixed with a new part construction.
You see monk I understood the compendium to be a cruel conception of fools attempting to rule with convention.
So I rebelled from the holy life and became a super villain ruthlessly sinning, thus fruitlessly winning"

Aunglimala peering into his intestines and viscera through his connection with his mind’s eye said to the wounded bishop
“You sir accrue a collection of chronic parasites in your gut which make your brain think a superior than thy human emotion.
Use this potion, recover, and continue your devotion. Fate, both genetic and karmic, will soon be pursued and tortured”.
Pennyworth:
Ha! Such stupid notions, are you trying to push my buttons, with the muscle I've attained through faith I’ll crush your skull in.
In case you haven’t noticed, I’m surrounded by madmen who act like swordsmen yet their motives are murder.
Guards kill him NOW and show him no mercy!
Yet before Aunglima was struck he exploded into lotuses and worm feed.
Now Pennyworth knew the worth of a penny was both glorious and a burden,
Yet he chose his omen fate for the burning need to owe no one a favor.
The evil noble knew the insane terms of what he attained- his next life he was due slave work.
A peaceful life was lived, but when he was dissected the parasites were there waiting as data
They had built a colony based on fat, an amazing creation that awed the autopsy maniacs;
Mechanics of the dead, lobotomy brainacs, who went into the brain of this man and found parasites there too.
The eyes he used to see were covered as well with various kinds of Gu>>> (蠱)<<<< Chinese for worms…
My fellow readers this is not a plead so you can heed the church,
Nor is it a story to read, observe, or learn from,
Rather it’s more of a request to breathe the words, and see what lurks inside your inner world.


Now in case your wondering who was the losing contestant?
No one they both willingly knew no competence.
Why? Because the truth is relative to how much doom is medicine.

On another note,
This topical theme displays the cruelness of the world to poor folks;
Divine philosophical debate is foolishness that mortals adore so.
The mind astrologically creates the blueprint of the world the lord wrote.
Spirit guides are psychotically deranged humans with neurons that absorb cortisol
They’ve historically had abnormally low dopamine levels due to knowingly furthering protocols
In which their earthly soul becomes as tar black as burning coal.
The pain of contrasting between rich and poor is part of the hallucinate stage
A state before the cogitate plane where you can ruminate a space less place in luminous grace…
To trip on duality forever without awakening is to cultivate dubious tastes.
The rubric of humanity’s tussle with insanity’s puzzle is a rubix cube that waits…

Tick tock…tick tock… who will solve this feudal game with no past futile saves to continue the way?
Dang, this bizarre topic makes me mentally have a sanity struggle!