We lack a deep-being integrity to our consciousness.
We function more so with our reptilian brain tool kit
as our first-responder in our initial experiential impressions.
Because our experience style claims that we are separate
from everything, in how we discover whatever we discover,
that is by a presumed unstated separateness from us to start.
In our terms of engagement,
experience is then consciously characterized
by its sensory separateness from us unspoken claims
and therefore we do not really sense nor search for deeper connectivity
with all things inherent in that method as our approach.
We therefore produce depiction-assigned portrayals
rather than integration–acknowledged emersion points of view.
We speak a language that turns into a code
but not necessarily a language that unlocks into decodes.
We promote a language that produces a warehouse of facts
that do not necessarily give us a language in fulfillment
that leads us into the livingness behind those facts.
Experience by its intrinsic nature, in its functional means,
is the suicide note about our self-isolation
that we continue to write as our living.
Experience is then the exercise apparatus
that we use 24/7, to put ourselves in a time continuum.
Being in time, and living in time is both the paper and the ink
that we use in the pronouncement of lucidly scripting our death notice.
In an experiential sense, the ‘now’ has no life and it has no death.
The ‘now’ never becomes the litter on the experiential side of the road.
The ‘now’ never travels in the road, on the road or as the road.
Only our consciousness, trapped in time, is living in this metaphor.
Our experiential reality is the pronounced mantra of distraction,
to the point of self-capture.
Such is the experience format we generally use . . .