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The Unseen

No sense of belonging, always aloof, separate, detached. Witnessing and enduring, observing and absorbing, yet not being part of anything at all.

The mind is striving for freedom and the heart is racing to find a way out, the soul is cryng in anguish, desperate to be released from its cage.

And so, insight. Seeking an insight into sight, that which is seen and heard, that which is felt and experienced.

Thoughts and ideas that crowd the mind, attempting to interpret theses images and emotions, and trying to construct a coherent picture, a picture - or vision - of what it means to be.

Being among a multitude of different beings, to comprehend the essential same-ness of all things. Do not all beings emerge from one source, the living ? All beings, therefore, have an attribute of that one source, life.

Not wanting to merge, not wishing to be a part of these strange environs, desiring only to escape, escape into the unseen.

I left the unseen aeons ago and was deposited here by time, into this world, where everything is sense-less, and yet, where everything makes sense.

Time is accompanying me on this painful journey. I would have no other companion but time, it is the best of freinds, the best of comforters. Its silence is reassuring and its presence enlightening.

I am journeying back, toward the realm which awaits the arrival of all things, the one realm that encompasses all the others.

It is but a return. From the unseen, back to the unseen. In between, having seen everything it is possible for one being to see.

Who wants to be here, when real existence and real truth lies there ? A realm beyond perception, beyond imagination, composed only of the real.

I am dreaming of my journey home, imagining being embraced by the unseen, after time infinite has transported me there.

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