Moby I

Thus I give up the search.

Existence is completely unbelievable 

and yet undoubtedly I am. 

Nothing else is as self-evident as this. 

The world is just conditioning, 

be it chemical or social, 

just this matrix formed by evolution 

in the service of enlightening intent. 

But all of it is nothing without consciousness, 

or in that little lower layer of expression, 

all of it is consciousness, all of it, I am. 

But further, maties, further: 

in the seeing all there is is this I am, 

the I that is is making clear 

that nothing other is than I. 

In other words, 

not even am is; 

only I. 

Aye, my captain, aye!