Sinatra was famous for his signature song: My Way.

We carry the illusion of control, of doing it our way.

Is it really so?

Do have a choice about our appearance?

Our height, our hair?

Personalities and purse strings.

If only could we nailed down the bad guy, then things would be OK. Will it?

People who have been hurt will turn around to victimize others.

Hence, play into the victimizing cycle.

How to break the chain? How to wake up from the illusion of “I am better than you”.

The other night, I woke up to the sound of music (not Beatles).

Turned out it was someone’s funeral. I deducted right away that if I could still hear the music, then I would still be alive.

The logic freed me while half-sleep, half-awake.

We are one-breath away from eternity.

Will the trumpet sound for me, for you, for us?

While we entertain the illusion of grandeur, even when death is in no special hurry.

Dream on. And forget not to say “I love you baby”. It works every time.

It plays right into illusion’s hand. That love lasts beyond death. That it sustains us in spite of the lack of money. Dream on.


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