Reality
is that temporary restraining order to
avoid direct contact with one’s spirit. Our
sensory input functions are as imperious and imposing a legal and internal
judicial system about values, interpretations, belief justifications, and self
accounts as we can handle and not realize its effect. Your
body is your bunk, your cell,
as
your stay sequestered on the planet. Everyone
is in as a lifer of unconsciousness. Freedom
does exist as a next thought that’s
possibly coming your way. Freedom
is also just one feeling
removed
from being fully present right now. Whatever
you’re currently thinking it
is a straight-jacket or other less
obvious means of yourself in restraint. The
immediate staff in guardianship of you is
the authorship of familiarity as a sedative. Likes
and dislikes are the shortcomings to stave off what next moments creatively might
offer as they appear. Judgment,
in this way, offers boundaries as
limitations become walls as points of view.
Living
within this prison proceeds to
boundary you by having you be somewhere
separate and isolated for
wherever you go. This
is like an ankle bracelet in your awareness that monitors and keeps you in
touch with
your own insular identity as a broadcast that
never ceases. Everyone
is confined by the warden of time. Meals
are provided in the form of memories served
as often as you like,
even
though there are suspicions that
there are detrimental elements in
the food that is served. Forgetting
who you are in the moment, is
a form of conjugal spiritual visitations. My
consciousness claims innocence, wants
a retrial but not as another life in
this prison of personal freedom. And
yet, I am a snitch
as
a mindset for rant-revealing any
of this. Hey,
act natural. None
of this means anything. Just
slowly move away and
go about your business. I
don’t know you. You
don’t know me, and
none of this is really happening . . .
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