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We are Cut
From The Same Cloth
Everyone must write every day. because everyday someone says something that makes you go
“ I don’t think so.”
like the guy who told me this morning that we are “cut from the same cloth”
Jesus Christ man.
Not even my sister or my brother are cut from the same cloth as me
No one is cut from the same cloth.
We may have something in common but no sorry no
fuck we’d have to be both the same person ffs
I CANNOT IMAGINE ANYONE WHO IS CUT FROM THE SAME CLOTH!!
Identical twins ?
The women that men pick to marry that are sort of similar to and cut from the same cloth as the guy’s Mom?
But-Maybe it’s for others to say about you.
“You two are cut from the same cloth. “ (ok fine they both love gardening.)
I wouldn’t mind being cut from the same cloth as.. MY MOTHER.
But you know.. I like my own cloth.
Same cloth. Jeese.
I’m thinking of the sweat pants i tried to make recently because i wanted pink velour. Then I lost track of things and cut one of the pieces ‘with the bias’ or ‘on the bias’ or ‘down on the bayou’ or something- or whatever you call it- going the other way- so you know- in many ways- not even pieces of cloth cut from the same cloth are “ cut from the same cloth. “
Not the same . no.
Only the pocket detail from the left pocket was cut from the same piece of cloth.
I know. I’m going nuts over this.
People who think we are cut from the same cloth drive me insane.
You’re like me are you?
You have a strong feeling everyday that you had a great time the night before and you search for where you wrote down countless insightful amazing observational ideas for a show that will be better than Hamilton?
Didn’t think so.
cut from the same cloth my tuchas.
I bit the hook when he said we were .
I experienced the painful realm of comparison.
Then the fresh awareness that what divides us is indeed the groundless feeling of knowing we are always at the beginning of something-and painfully at the end of something else.
So in the space/ in the liminal space/ in the bardo …
As the Feminine principal begins to wax in the night sky and the war cry is heard-
How will you conduct yourself?
How will you ‘hold your seat’ as the Buddhists say-
thru the stormy waves?
Many Rivers.. One Ocean…
May the Sacred feminine be Victorious.
May we show love by being cool when people say we are cut from the same cloth.