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By Illya KPublished 7 years ago 1 min read

Tangible in a slow rhythm, a hyper frequency reaches even the deaf. What is this consuming me through even the toughest of times? When even despair has fallen away to leave this essence alone with me. Can this even exist or is it yet another construct of my mind? Who can tell me? Questions lead to more questions, endlessly manifesting and falling away. Should I rely on my knowledge that's formed through experience or can I seek another route?

Let's try.

It has been here since before the start and shall continue through and through. For no end is truly real for there was no beginning. Hence I ask what are you then? Breaking down its essence to one clear pointing, its existence alone. How can I understand that which is and takes no break? Sure you may reside in the background when the brain is churning through another play, but never none present.

As the moments unravel your calm and peaceful presence, I question why it is not spoken of more frequently. For it resides in all that we see and are. A resonance, holding together every aspect of existence.

Yet a chaotic fluctuation still engulfs the richness of its essence to eventually harmonize and add to it. Growing and densifying, through existence, to marvel at its own dance of life. How strange that I could ever believe separation is possible. Doubts merely stimulate the current and intensity, yet even in overwhelming experiences, I remain.

Can I remain when all falls away and I am left with you? Am I merely referencing that which I AM?

Surely this is but a play of the none tangable words and meanings lost in the space of awareness? Who can know this? But something still persists in a compelling aroma of isness. Tasteless, formless yet real as the realm we witness. Witness...Am I just a refrence to state the happening as it turns to memory? Memory...the non existent that can alter and be alterd. For then existence is but a play in oceans of freedom to dwell and surface.

Joy, truly free to roam in the none recognition of anything, since attachment densifies to a perspective.

fact or fiction

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