Outpourings of Ink
Honestly, what does this form yearn for- what does it need? It is unknown to an extent, yet- yet it also knows that ultimately all yearnings, all the comforts are false. A being so vast and so lonely that it must interact within portions of self for solace. Lost and alone- tragedy or comedy, it all comes to the same core.
The tragedy in all, those portions of sufferings we face- they show a glory of beauty so intense, it cannot truly be faced. And yet, I want to- to see it beyond any limitations and interpretations.
States have been experienced so bright and so dark as to smash the bounds of duality. Death, rebirth- construction, destruction so whole and complete that words only act as hollow metaphors floating on the sea of being.
I do not know any long what is meant to be constructed after these boundary dissolving states. It is as if less and less is required for one to sustain- yet that yearning almost never ceases. As if there were only one more change…
What does my heart truly want? I don’t want to be sedated any longer- I want to be complete. I have endured lifetimes of pain, eternities within suffering- I would endure so much- for one perfect moment. Its glory and intensity would be eternal. Another day shall pass in the realm of me, and I shall endure- to the fullest extents of time. As long as I feel, no matter what my interpretations of it may be- I must remind myself that it is already perfect, for it is what is. I will search for the act of searching- always on the brink of nothing, existing outside the brink of duality no matter the cost.
