Endings of unreal

More and more I see that life happens as it does. More and more do I know less and less. And anything I try to quantify or define just falls to pieces.

There is truth however in the feeling of what I am. And everything that I'm not is interpreted by a mind made up of insecurity. What do I judge in another but the false interpretation of myself? There is only one of us here after-all, supernatural and true.

All of this phenomena is what I am, and what I'm not. I'm a God lost playing with his toys. One can get locked up and vilified for stating such a thing but it's true for you too.

I become in my feelings what I think I am. But I can't hold up the façade for too long. The structures collapse just as easily as they're made. It's an internal image. A hope for love.

When I shake free from this I remember. I'm much more than the petty thoughts. These impressions of need and ideas of what I want. So why want? The wise man once said "want what you have and don't bother about the things you don't have". It's so simple.

I want all the experiences of the world and the people around me happy. But that want is fleeting, it's an idea. Wherever I am I am here. The stuff outside isn't real, it hides what is real. I see the real when I stop trying to change the unreal.

Let the unreal come to me. Allow the unreal. Pain transforms when it's allowed to be. It takes practise to believe it but just a moment then to realise. It's true.

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