“Puro Pit”

This language does not make existence better or worse—but it is just different dependent on the language we use, language that limits us. I limit the world when I use language, and this writing, if anything, has lied. It can never be truth, because anything called truth haunts only inside of the heart—and that is all I have ever really cared about, and that is beyond language.

I witness Listo, the puro pit, and he teaches and gifts me more than words. I almost cannot believe in my wildest imagination that these animals exist.

With his mountains of muscles and storms of wind, he pulls and pushes me full-force, and I am fully alive in something like Disneyland, but there is more truth here in this red nose, this red heart.

I laugh at myself, for I look like a fool, and I am a fool, for I serve the dog and not my mind.

This is the feeling of gameness.

No mind.

Only heart.

When your legs are broken, you still scratch on that line.

You love life even in your last breath.