John O.’s Pointing Out Instructions (Whereby Paranoia becomes the Path)

Don’t trust Them and don’t trust You

Don’t trust Skies of Grey or Blue

Don’t trust Life and don’t trust Death

Don’t trust Following Your Breath

Don’t trust Buddha; don’t trust God

Don’t trust Your Lousy or Hot Bod

Don’t trust Pride and don’t trust Shame

Don’t trust the Cock and Pussy Game

Don’t trust Gay and don’t trust Straight

Don’t trust Love and don’t trust Hate

Nor Attachment nor Aversion

Nor Indifference (That’s the Worst One)

Don’t trust Body; don’t trust Mind

Don’t trust Leave-It-All-Behind

Don’t trust Thin and don’t trust Fat

Don’t trust Neither-This-Nor-That

Don’t trust Painful Memory

Don’t trust “I need Therapy”

Don’t trust You don’t—Perhaps You do

Don’t trust They All are helping You

Don’t trust Scientists or Reason

Don’t trust Wise Philosophies an’

Don’t trust Vajrayana, Zen

Don’t trust Barbie—don’t trust Ken

Don’t trust Sober; don’t trust Drugs

Don’t trust Family and Hugs

Don’t trust Dollars, Pesos, Francs

Don’t trust John O.’s Asshole Pranks

Don’t trust Rinzai; don’t trust Soto

Don’t trust Dorothy or Toto

Don’t trust Those Behind the Curtain

Don’t trust Teachers—They’re All Hurtin

“So, What can I trust?” You ask

Answering’s a Hopeless Task

But John O.'s a Hopeless Dude

Here’s His Answer, Rhymed and Crude:

Find Some Way to Concentration

Maybe try Some Meditation

You’ve Six Senses—Learn to Mind ‘em

Now turn Mind to Look Behind ‘em

What You find still can't be Trusted

If You name It—Whoah! You’re Busted!

You might think that It is You

That’s a Thought You can’t trust too

What You can’t find, don’t trust either

Just relax and take a Breather

Let It move You, let It weave You

Let It groove You, let It breathe You

Let It mind You, let It live You

Let It find You and forgive You

In Dharamsala or El Paso

Don’t forget: You’re still an Asshole!

Don’t think It’s not He or She

Don’t think It’s Both or Either, please,

Don’t try not to think You’ve found It

But, Jeez, don’t form a Cult around It

Don’t say, “It’s Good!” Don’t say, “It’s Bad!”

Don’t let It make You Happy, Sad

Or In-Between, but let It thrill You

Let It hurt You—let It kill You

I bow down to All Paranoids. I bow to You, Dear Reader.

Love to All,

John O.