Budda In The Industrial Age

When it comes to women I am only the servicer.
I been stuck between that rock and a hard place for nigh on forever.
If there was a platform other than that of a romantic poets perhaps I'd stand
a chance.
Seems like the only consistency a victim knows is loss and embarrassment.
Oh well at least I can be sure of making a fool of myself again and again.
It gives me a strange thrill sort of like discovering you're immortal.
When I think of my past I often find tirades of contempt and discust of which I
have been the target as if it has become a popular sport.
Everyday I am considering a violation of my pacifism.
If budda were to descend from the holy heights would he endeavour to change
his custom?
What wisdom is there in the bar room brawl or in office towers playing God with
other peoples lives?
If I approach determinism perhaps I can become strong and understand the Budda.
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