The exudation from the DREGS of consciousness

Mirrors reflecting what is here, is negligible for Yeshivah bukhers--they had no mirrors in the institute, & here to them is some benchmark in history that imparts solace of an asceticism which we can guess at with our own self-realizations. Why no mirrors? Because as men we are not to suppose ourselves as vanity permits. If rooted in clarified reflection is past lives--ours or otherwise, then artificiality of thought can be surmised whether we are looking or not upon what we'd want to be as some lonesome heaven portends, or seeing oneself as a contemporary in a one world village. On Williamsburg rd. (my neighborhood of growing up) in the 88Olds, as if the red dragon of some remote past life decided to sneak up on me, I expedited a pensive notion, but quickly as like the rear view mirror in the car could contain the thought, and yet looking askew proffered a full length view of my face--in a red glare. Supposing I were in a third world pension room with my woman & we were erudite from seeing ruins of confessions of lost history and if we then stared into mirrors opposite & back to back from each other, I would have in this case reminiscent of the drive down my old street past tall oaks & the peopled side-walks, seen my past life with her as my mother.