If You Meet the Buddha, Kill Him

•September 18, 2012 • 1 Comment

The smooth wooden floors feel cool to my bare feet. I walk silently to a cushion, bow, and sit down. I smell the burning incense, a pleasant ¬†warm aroma that envelops the dimly lit room. The room is still, except for a few tiny flames. Their light dances against the earth-colored walls. I then dare to look up at the metallic statue of the Buddha. He sits with his legs crossed, one hand resting on his lap and the other one touching the altar. His calm eyes gaze back down in my direction, and I notice his slight smile. And I can’t help but think,¬†Yes, Mr. Buddha, you know something I don’t. That’s why I am here. Continue reading ‘If You Meet the Buddha, Kill Him’

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