Saturday, November 3, 2018

Ode in Consciousness

This blessed headlessness, this perfectly experiential space, this unbelievably beyond-a-thought

and all-encompassing omnipresence, this consciousness—all things believed to be material are just appearances

within this consciousness and only in this consciousness, despite that trick of memory making an objective world

appear to be there every morning when it's merely some beliefs in memory not erased by the little death of sleep.

A rose is a rose is a rose not because it is a rose but one is thinking it's a rose. In truth, the only rose is the rose

of consciousness. And the flower laughed. Look, if a as in all equals consciousness and the absolute is being, see—

this kiss of consciousness is spaceless, timeless, depthless, water cannot wet it nor can the wind dry it.

Dig, consciousness is the only knowledge and what passes as all knowledge in the world is really just a rabbit hole—

seeing through one’s thoughts is a virtuous practice but try thinking without consciousness if you need a second opinion.

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