Let's think

I am wondering how it feels to walk on coals, and feel nothing. Feel nothing. The interesting thing is that people are paying to convince theirself that they aren't hurt. That they are feeling great. Although their feet in the air has become fried and they already able to smell the fire. They are calm. And I am still wondering how it feels to be an Indian soldier and kill a snake ... Without remorse. Without fear. Without compassion. I am thinking what should then feel the snake? Emptyiness? Pain? Relief What then should feel the snake when the spear goes directly into the heart, spread sharper than the harsh words, fine-cut and sharpened by an experienced warrior... What then the snake should feel, when it's heart is pierced by a spear, and is tearing all the arteries, leaves neither the slightest chance to survive, when just in a second it's thread of the life is lost. Nothing left. What then should feel the snake, when from it's heart runs bright red blood and flows, flows, flows ...And what the soldier would think that moment, I am thinking... The soldier, who is the chef of his tribe, but his soul is dirty. Soul soaked with blood, red as a poppy in the field, blood which you can't wash with soap; you could not take the soul, wash it and put it again into the right place. No... He has to feel shame which is so great that hurts his stomach and never lets to forget what had happened. Guilty, which would always be in front of his eyes, never let to forget, at least for a short pass through the streams, forests which are full of the blood, without thinking about anything else. I'm still thinking. I am thinking. You are thinking. Let's think.