Weaser's spirit is sold spirit.

But nobody can be utterly sturdy, thus anybody can keep the minimal own spirit.

Sold spiri is to anybody some undeniably escapable state on the one's life spirit.

To own spirit, you should buy your spirit. But that satisfied spirit could not sold to any other one.

Spirit, it's some kind of bird's whisper or tweeting echo. But in it, how can we be bound and stuck to deeply immanence?

Son of our spirit is habit, but that own attached emotion makes us so stubborn around any other one's opinion.

Sour grape we can easily make in our mind of us. But wind of world can easily erases its own power. After all our mind is not that stronger.

However, either world can not be so stronger, because the rule can easily be converted. 

Seasonal wind means so much for wind by itself. But the cliff, forests or so at wound state, each has each transaction, but wind by itself can never know those all.

We are either the kind of wind, aren't we? But nobody can reply my own question.

Where have you gone, our own spirit? Whom was it sold?

Only machinery reality dominates our own spirit. 

(Irregulaly continued)

Feb. 25th.    2024