I remember that as Icarus, I savoured the fall more than the flight. So it is that flight is never-ending, divine, it's brought me here. The fall though, feels unique, singular, so human. Trying cognitively to find Gautama's 'middle way', I've realized that emotionally I've been building barricades against it. When fuelling the flames of passion, I've thrown my own body into the pyre, just to keep it burning, if not raise it higher. When sinking into the depths of darkness, I've sought to extinguish my own light to make its embrace complete. I see that I've been living a life obsessed with loss. Now, I've lost interest in it. Recognizing this veil has commenced the unveiling. I've carried the burdens of my ancestors, out of love, for long enough. They're not mine, I return them with love. I know now that I don't need to lose, to prove that I love. The proof is apparent in everything which the eyes see, in everything which the heart feels. Words are losing meaning. Words keep attachment going, as wood keeps a fire, or chemicals keep a high. Epochs spent seducing with words -- lies with short legs, which I now stand facing, looking down upon myself, seeing the child who fears being beaten, for speaking the Truth. Truth is never convenient in the world of Illusion. These days are wrapped in synchronous moments. I work to strengthen my core, to regain touch with the feeling in my gut. It's working. The amount of times I've found myself doubled over, on my side, clutching my abdomen are proof to me. Illness without, parallel to the quelling of dis-ease within. When The Creator and I communicated in the Psilocybic language, I asked, "why am I often unhappy?" The laconic response was bitter medicine, "because you do things you don't like doing." And so, I drop another habit. I've been told by God three times where the question to the answer will be found. I tested God, God passed. If I continue to procrastinate, I will be the one who is cheated. I'm ready. |