All
things manifest, we greet with discreet awareness. It is as an extrapolation
without immersion, yet languaged with mental equivalency. It is as distanced
contextualization. It is as referential, rarely penetrating with presence but done,
living in a protective means from the most unconscious places within us. We
find venues of preoccupation, distraction and omission to fill the days, in
acceptance of materialistic assignments yet this collusion is always in
question. We are tiny whispers, seedlings of inquiries that grow from within.
We are pauses and frame-breaks coming through us that peer into our deep spaces
as if we are ground breaking without even the full audience of ourselves. Nothing
is self-consciously sensationalized but yet we are a widening wonder under
breath. We are incomplete sentences murmured yet vague as a comprehension. We
are shadows of higher truths yet that linger without grand entry but show
themselves to us in the strangest of ways. We are to be honorable and present from
within us and still in clear spirit, behind it all. That of all things manifest,
we somehow need to passionately greet them with this discreet self-sense of
spiritual awareness . . .
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