Dreaming Our True Selves
The fantastic revelation of who we really are.
First, we sleep
then we dream
What happens within the event?
We are truly ourselves
No more lying and pretending
No more thinking, no more planning
No more making sense of everything
You, without a mask
Raw
Without judgments, without guilt
Raw
Just observing…
It's you inside your story
It's you creating them
It's you looking at yourself inside the dream
Never realizing the main protagonist.
Who is behind these creations?
How many stories have we dreamt?
We’d have a drama play if we could grab all the action.
Even the shattered ones are fantastic tales
Why can't we remember them all?
Consciousness is awake
We just don't perceive it in the outer reality
that is
Life happening to you
inside your true
Self.
About the Creator
Rene Volpi
I'm from Italy and write every day. Being a storyteller by nature, I've entertained (and annoyed) people with my "expositions" since I was a child, showing everyone my primitive drawings, doodles, and poems. Still do! Leave me a comment :)
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Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis5 days ago in Humans
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