Ananda's Journal, Entry 26

July 28th, 2260 – Midday

Finally got around to asking security about the cyborg we hauled back. I’d been avoiding it. Nothing unusual for the Wilds; just a scavenger whose band happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. From their point of view, I’m sure it seemed entirely reasonable to shoot first. AvalokiteĊ›vara wept all the same. If Bikkhuni Thandiwe was here, she’d tell me it was one of the unfortunate and (sadly) laughable situations that come of dualistic thinking – theirs and mine. The way for killing to cease is to kill dualism and its artificial distinctions. We’ve had that discussion before.

The separation between self and other, and even this life, the previous, and the next, is said to be no more substantial than the shadow of a flame. Yet my own sparseness of experiential memory to that effect makes it difficult to hold in mind under pressure – nearly always, it’s something I know rather than feel from moment to moment. So I find my way into the future, like pretty much everyone else: blindfolded, trying not to fall on my face too often. Trying to laugh when I inevitably do.

Ananda's Journal, Entry 26

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