As above, so it is below. And as the world at war, so there
is a person.
But as memory makes the person, suddenly is realization
never forgotten!
Headless and universally with heart, this godly ghost I am—
I'm hallowing with bloodless words upon this late October
half-moon night.
Darwin read the right directions but survival of the one is
in reality the game.
There is no one but myself throughout this echoing so-called Big Bang, but understanding this
self-evident truth is like a Waterloo of relativity for
societal conditioning.
Quote unquote: it's not the loss of ego that's important,
it's the understanding there's no other.
Like thinking being good is something you can do when being
only ever does you good.
Like writing to the world when every secondary character is
merely in my headless head. This is called allusion—
I like the sea that's being boundless now within this
clarity
as if the rockbound silvery Mount Desert Ocean is openly eroding thoughts of
me.
Quote unquote the footnote: reference Pip is what Ishmael is experiencing while speaking of that one white whale
—"the intense concentration of self in the middle of
such a heartless immensity, my god! who can tell it?"—
tells the universe collapsing into Self-Awareness is the Loomings, Epilogue, and Story of Reality,
is telling Herman to his woman lovingly,
with an immensity of heart—
this is dedicated
to the one
I love.
