in what is. when i truly was
there was no mind. no space. no. time
only sensation
and even the recognition of this required an interrupting thought
a burr on a silk pillow
a skip /scratch on the vinyl track
a glare that blinds the perfect sight
i was one with my feelings
understanding each fluid moment, each moment i breathed right before the cresting waves
i was
i could see me being me without an intermediary
me being me without thought but not thankless
me being me as i had always meant to be
moving turning breathing seeing feeling and the water about, me part of and one of, each moment. no reaction , no action till i thought and my lungs burned with salt
and i laughed because this moment allowed me to be
the mind is a usurpur
it has nothing to teach nothing to give nothing except its unholy union with ego.
what it should be is no longer what it is .soulkeeper, the reaper . "what truly lives never dies , what dies never truly lived"
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