what if 10,000 nuance hits
of a higher vibratory self
are in this process?
it's so hard to immerse
in a transcendence,
when there's a pronouncement of vanity
in the mundane.
what if serious inward self-discussions go on
in a language base
that has no nouns?
where vehemence vibrationally exists
as the surface reflection
of an inward tranquil pool.
disregard has no eyes for audience
to the presence of this.
there is this inner presence
that truly goes on
without the say of it
ever verbally approaching.
we are as a being in residence,
beyond the use of self, in regard.
as a sense of liquidity
without dimensionality,
without either regard or restraint.
even temporality only exist
as a sacred shallow breather.
this is where dimensions of conjecture
fall silent in respectful dismay.
where an inner sense of radiance
is traveling outwardly,
at the speed of bloom.
and blush has an innocence
in response,
that never leaves its homeland,
for birth.
this is where an exude of radiance
wears an ongoing sense of pour.
where the mystique of mystical
has gained a sense of residency.
there is now a potency
that has gained an outpour,
as a sense for this, as residence.
it is as a dignity is transfixed
in the slightest newness
of ongoing shimmer.
where residence has no spatial occupancy.
and any sense of inner grasp
exists as the functionality of this embrace.
and eventually,
embrace is striped of its articulates
into a sense of immerse.
until no one is aware of oneness
outside of a first-person sense of its presence.
this is where,
the drum is always humming
and the beat has dissolved
of its individuality as of a self.
this is where
sincerity, as a presence,
has evolved itself,
out of the intentions of shallow seriousness.
any sense of lather and carriage
has become potentized
as a potion, now potent in sacred usage.
where any sense of selfdom
has lost its looking glass's reflection.
and all of the historical facility of language
has transcended of itself,
into the constancy of one unceasing hum.
and beingness has no usage
for the time-honored-ness,
that knowledge portends to be profound.
this is when residents
comes to have no wear of their presence.
and beingness has no observance
of any awareness being profound.
and the sense of
oneness gives up its mathematical heredity
just to ever be.
and space eventually evolves
to become its own ongoingness of presence
as if sunlight is its own sense of self-radiance.
then the translation of experience
becomes the outpour of this ongoingness.
and physicality only exists
at the outer fringe edges
of the vacant drum rolls of existence.
and experience of itself
only exists,
as the ongoing pronouncement of isness.
this is where there's a cutting-edge of width
that is wider than
separation has the capacity to grasp.
this is where dimensionality is formatted
in every sense of articulations as embrace.
and the notions of leave and take
have entered into the realms of non-existence.
and functionality has no witnesses
other than the fluid sense of integral.
the sense of itch and scratch
have entered into that same timeless state.
and thus, awareness gave up its residence
as a timely audience perspective.
and even experience
of its own accord,
has migrated into an isness of embrace
as the end usage of self-perspective.
pain and pleasure of themselves
became resourceful
beyond their need of differentiated existence means.
so is the same fate
as to worrying and fret,
as they came to have no timelines of heritage
to be of aliveness anymore.
this is where a dog barks a tree surfaces,
the pound of a forest.
this is where a sky flies a bird
into the existence of a landing
that chooses to be.
where water waits in wading pools
until it gets a chance to wave.
where wind will have hissy fits,
waiting while thermals debate
a sense of their direction.
and finally,
this is where a wish
evolved into a want,
during a timeline
as a yawn . . .
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