Pleasure and Pain: The Wickerwork of Fate

 **29 June 2006**

There is plenty of pleasure around and plenty of pain as well.

Invariably, we desire, we desire to have all of the former in our kitty and none of the latter.

In fact, there are many who would have others be entitled to all the pains that are there.

But such abhorrence for the latter does not bog it down, and invariably it comes to haunt the pleasure-loving selves of modern man.

Though there is no real pain and pleasure, we sulk and exult relatively, coiled up in the basket of our suffering.

Your eyes closed, your hood below the last coil, below your tail.

In the dark air, in the wickerwork of fate—or your own doing, for those who don't believe in the term; but both are the same, because at one time or the other they stand to justify each other—you lie down, your utility is under snare, your capability is crippled.