(Unfin Ramble) Not-me here, not me… but me, there.

Journal Entry | about 1 month ago

Not-me here… but me, there.
-[Edit]-
Essential yet concrete, the fragments of micro-portions…
of matter in it’s refractions. Abstract symbols become the intangible inertia
and we live for connection, emanating cycles of paradigms and in the manifestations of revolutions, it was then ‘I’ was free, I had left my body. I had projected in to the space above my bed. I feel the soul exists and is indestructible.

Pulsating visions, unique sensory vibrations and the blackness of the subconscious. Externalizations in vast unknown and vivid lapses. Luminous psychical powerhouse, skin veil. Earth-bound. Next I, I myself, was standing on the floor beside my bed looking down at my physical body. At-one-ment. No anxiety in dreamlife. Passion in meaninglessness. Marveling at the glorious infinite everything.

One would consider, being a physical entity in the kingdoms of spiritual matter,
Real perception – Meaningful action/reaction is Inner Vital.
In the perpetual reconstructing of insecure vastness,
our hyper-tense senses are in a inner-conflict with outer decay.
Sometimes we rise, in our marvelous separateness.
Only our unflinching curiosity and inert immersions
bring to the light our need for extraordinary gatherings of belongingness.
Symbolic fluxes and vague participation; the exchange of surface desires.

Birth Arises, Decay Exists, and Death Continues.

-[Edit 2]-

Between it and inbetween it all; separated and theorized,
follow the voyeur of mishappenings,
follow space, upwards, outwards. Beyond skin we have it all yet nothing is clear. We were once hapy with our faults.

A man looks into the mirror. He examines himself.
“Yup that’s me alright.” He puts his hands up to his face and gently rests fingers upon his cheeks, he puts pressure on and slightly pulling down the tired look under the eyes, he pokes at himself,
“Who am I, really?”, he pauses and stares into his eyes unflinchingly.
“Who needs to really know?”
“How long have we known that the description of the world is better than the world itself?”

How I dream of being a non-being. As my outerself has become my physical entity my innerself becomes a psychical non-entity.

‘The path is narrow as the edge of a razor. Narrow is the way which leadeth unto life. And now there is no path here, since for pure man there is no law. And his soul is a lamp whose light is steady for it burns in a shelter where no winds come. May the infinite spirit of good bless all men and women.’

I must go now, the forest in my dreams has a waterfall which I must sleep under.

The Comfortzone, Stepping out.

Sometimes, a person will start feeling that they are missing something – a sort of emptiness.
 
Missing love goes even deeper.
Much will happen in this emptiness, so remain open.
Going astray is good.
There is nothing wrong in it, unless you cannot commit.
Yet everybody must feel their own way.
Harness the overwhelming passions of the heart,
fill and feel the need for natural, deep solitude.
I bring the upward positive spirit of a bird,
with wings of dreams in an infinite sky –
the spirits have me in vital echo,
the spirits have me chanting force.
 
Everything is expanding, there are no limits to growth.
Only the repressed and the fearful inhibit themselves.
 
Take, Eat, This is my body.

The impulse to begin again…
led me to lose my mind,
to come to my senses.

Love is not something we make, or do, but something we are.

Life is magic from womb to tomb,

hang in there buddy, we’re almost home.
 
– wordage by Taran