I am looking for a man with terminal cancer. The disease has spread to his prostate and testicles, which are now the size of tennis balls. Is losing control of his bowels and bowel movements at night on top. We laughed and we talked about last night's football game while I wash the feces that litter its gigantic testicles. I do not say that there is no suffering, do not say "I am free and you do not" and not even mentioned the nonduality. You simply clean the testicles. That's it.
I hold the hand of a woman in the hospital. Dying. His face is yellow and shallow breathing. The stench of urine and chlorine is in the air over a bowl of instant tomato soup that has not even played. I see myself same die. We die together in this lonely room between plastic flowers and a tomato sopicaldo. This is all and she is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
I'm laying in a hospital bed. The surgeon just remove a fleshy lump anus. When the nurse removed the gauze covering the wound open and swollen, I feel like I stuck a knife in the anus and then girasen several times. I ask for more morphine, but the nurse said he could not give me more. The whole universe is saturated with pain.
A music video with a crash sounds on TV next to my bed. Then the pain suddenly disappears and is replaced by the voice of Britney Spears. Britney Spears is only a song called Womanizer. It is as if the pain would never have been there. And, if it occurred, it already thousands of millions of years ... . ocurrióa and somebody else will. Suddenly
recurs excruciating pain. Do not know it was possible to experience such pain. My eyes blur and I almost fainted. Then back Britney: "Womanizer, woman-womanizer, you're a womanizer, Oh womanizer, Oh, you're a womanizer, baby." The pain seems to move to the rhythm of the dance movement of Britney. There
some stability here. Nothing endures from one moment to the next. All that remains is the rawness of the experience. Stab, Britney, stab, Britney ... the breathing motion of the universe.
Jeff Foster.
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