for every event I experience,
I can experience the experience
of that event.
and for that reason,
eventfulness of that kind,
doesn't touch my soul.
sure, it is an experience,
an intake that stimulates,
maybe even sensory overwhelm.
but somewhere within,
I am only watching.
yes, reality consuming,
but only input in outrageous terms.
there is a part of me in receivership,
that is not whelmed by this.
sure, duly noted and all that,
but not drawn out of myself in response.
not tears of joy,
not tears of deep conviction,
not laugher from beyond,
just intimate myopias all around.
didn't get inner radiance set off.
didn't feel consummate with the circumstance.
just audience in, maybe even outrageousness,
but, not moved from within.
not risen from inner spirit made present,
just the billboards of external that implore.
surely relatable as externally real,
but no inner enterprise coming into play,
just reality relatable in the ongoing
by comparative truth, amazing,
but not stir of soul.
no awakening of my inner being.
experience as intake
is only skilled in that bystander way.
I still remain audience of the self.
want something more from deeper within me,
say, the way tears might come
for a greater whole,
the way compassion arrives
from somewhere deep within a caring.
the way I search for others,
that are the wellspring beckoning me,
to arise from within my beyond.
I have witness for that.
I secretly, to myself,
long for that from within to reveal.
not for the experience
but for the deepening of revelation,
for a greater expanse of whole,
for connections beyond relatedness.
sure, I genuinely experience,
but I also witness experience,
from a deeper view,
more whole, in dimensions than experience offers,
but registered in the same sort of light.
I am willing to say,
the experience of experience,
and trust that that implies something
more inward and deeply private as aware.
and from there,
I long and yearn and beckon,
the unknown, so to speak,
to present in a medium
that I can be aware,
be amazed,
and eventually be immersed . . .
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