THE MASTER

The master was walking around a pond when he remembered the words of a master from his youth: "When you accept you know nothing and that the little bit you think you know is only making you more ignorant, then you have finally embarked on the path that leads to knowledge."

The master was walking down the street lost in thought when a woman's voice interrupted his ruminations. "O Venerable One, how are you?" She was the daughter of one of his students from many years ago.  "I am fine, young lady. How is your mother?" "She is fine. She says that you were her favorite teacher." "She was certainly one of my favorite students." The mother had a bohemian nature. She wrote poetry and played the guitar. A free spirit with a love of Portuguese and born into wealth, she would travel to the most exotic locales: Brazil, Cape Verde, Angola, Macau, Goa.  "I was remembering my Pumpkin," she confessed one day when they were eating in the academy's cafeteria. "Pumpkin?" replied the master, slightly confused. "He was my boyfriend." "And why did you call him Pumpkin?" "I know that it is a clic...

The master was deep in thought pondering that opposites comprise reality and lead to enlightenment: I am, but I'm not. I was, but I wasn't. I will be, but I won't be. By understanding, I don't understand. When I open something, something closes. I am here, but I'm not here. I tremble at the thought of death, yet I quiver living life. There is not there. The master rose and walked down the corridor to the bathroom. As he urinated, he noticed that his stream was a dark yellow.