Left Unspoken

We are the words. The words we cannot say. The words we cannot bear to think. We are all of these words, and many more, unspoken words. Unspoken harmonies, loves and hatred that keep underneath the skin and bubble like cysts trying to break through into our conscious awareness. But they cannot because we resolutely reject them. We are afraid of those impulses, the widest smiles and the madman’s laughter. We resolve not to be possessed by these things, and yet they control us as an aside. From the shadows. Puppeteers of thought that draw the hand ever closer to compulsion.

Here I am, and nowhere. I do not exist; I am only the perpetual shadow of what I may someday become. And I may become anything yet, still, as I still breathe. And beyond my last breath, because time is eternal, eternally a delusion. My purpose in this world is to give greatness back to its rightful owner. The human soul. And to be certain, we do have souls. The souls are behind the eyes, and to verify them you need but look into the eyes of a fellow soul and you will see both theirs and your own. Behind the pupil’s black sun, light is enthralled within the secret center of the mind. Not the brain. But the operator, the operator dancing holographically within the matrix of the interconnected whole.

I am that whole, my friend, and you are that whole. Nothing can divide us from that whole, because it is essentially bound to each individual atom, the imprint of the entire universe – in that very seed is the container for the lost word of infinite creation. Knowing it, we know there are many words. There are many worlds. And we will see all of them, before the brilliance of this experience begins again anew and still more poignant than it had ever been prior.

Still you doubt the heart that beats in your chest. You pinch your skin and declare it meat. You sink into your bottle and declare yourself wasted. You collapse into the bed and declare yourself spent. You chase carrots and haunt credit cards. You do not see the beauty in yourself or in our Earth or in this life. It has not given you what you wanted. You have taken all you can but it’s not enough. I know where you are, because I am you. I am still grasping, wanting. All the innumerable hands of the human race are joined in their grasping, palms outstretched and fingers curling like a sea of anemones  in their infinite desire…

But I am not here to tell you that grasping is wrong. If we should grasp, let us grasp at brilliance. Let us grasp towards harmony. Let us grasp towards understanding. Let us grasp towards love. Let us come ever closer to universal happiness. Not as a zero sum game, but by our recognition that the things we really need as a race are in infinite supply. They are not dug out of mines and they are not smelted in forges except those forges be the fires of our spirit in the furnace of resurrection. Let us dig the golden egg from its trough, entombed as it is deep within the abyss of self. Pulling it out, the void is filled with a shining suffusion and the emptiness becomes a dancing cascade of abundance.

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If we are strangers to ourselves, we are strangers to each other. Once we know ourselves, and I do mean know, deeply know, and have an intimate connection with, a humble connection, an insightful and clear connection – then we come to see others in a new way. They are no longer simple strangers anymore, but long lost friends. Because they are reflections of what is most high and most dear. And what we see in them, whether it is love and understanding or misunderstanding and hatred, that is a reflection of who we deep down really are. To see others clearly, you must know who you are. And once you do, you will not just make connections. You will join experiences, and see from the eyes of others, and know their hearts and souls, through their eyes. And their eyes will be yours, and you will see them through you, and you through yourselves.

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