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Saturday, November 21, 2020

out of nothing comes

 

the micro-habits that live 

between doing's efforts

has the richness of a soup of self, 

but never, not even once ever tasted.

yet the ink of being 

that will never make the self-menu 

is to surface 

as self instructions to rationally order from.

the betweens of thought,

as thought, not to be of any substance

are so richly filled 

with unrevealed insight into self,

as if the self of the unconscious surfacing.

the irrationals in flash-bys, 

are unrealized as meaningfuls.

the elegance of associations 

are not prominent enough 

towards recovery. 

the keynotes to past-life restimulations, 

that energetically live 

beyond motivations grasp

but are otherwise functions 

as directives in illogical drag.

as in, please note the piss-off of others

to realize those traits that are 

as present buried within oneself.

please note, the unprovoked attention 

given to otherwise distractions,

the secret interest in that 

the rest of you denies,

and these great crevices, 

rich in micro-habits, 

that live in-between the busyness 

of conscious living.

for projection only produces a product 

as a person.

depth of being is behind the vast, 

the profound and the large.

introspection is with a firm deft 

but subtle grasp,

to pier into that nothingness to find,

as your first excuse, an active imagination.

no one asked you 

to be an audience to yourself.

just go there and be,

a rich inner life, 

as if telling made-up stories, 

to your child of self,

as if to see what's real, 

but has no reality to surface into.

to come to know, 

all the nouns of you

that may have originally existed 

as verbs deeply within, 

and the frame-breaks 

from consciousness contentiousness.

who would have thought to look there?

self is always innocence, 

when self-consciousness is gone.

the adventure into that nothingness

is not nothing realized, 

but subtle substance unrealized.

our pursuit of diversity's view

is nothing more than oneness 

disguised by our circumventive methods.

for myopia is the last to come to know. 

nothing is incessant oneness, 

unrealized as being . . .

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