Here's the story behind my tattered tao: in the lesbian-capital of england, at the back on the bottom shelf slipped in between a beautifully bound koran and some kind of kid's guide to christianity there was the tiniest and most down to earth translation, I bought it on a whim because I would get bored later and it might be fun. Then I started reading it and this book has travelled, around budapest with me a short while and in the storm I took it's advise [there's a snapshot in my mind of the budapest skyline lit by white-blue fire as the rain drops stop suspended in the momentary flash of when I could see them], it counselled me through cold-turkey and has been wild camping more times than I have on account of I left it in the trees overnight once and went back for it, and it played my pillow on a hill somewhere in the wilds of the peak district... I love this book.