Ah, have I forgotten to speak? It is if my soul is drained of words. Unable to break the dams of the outer body, the waters of my inner world have turned further inwards, outwardly mute.
Not a time to speak, but to listen, to think, to consider. To consolidate. The way to peace with myself begins with the first steps of acceptance. Strange flowers blooming, their scent at times unfamiliar, at times repulsive – I watch them with interest, studying their growth. I must let them bloom.
I want to see where the path leads, where it branches out, its unknown futures – split into infinite possibilities. Upon reaching any of its sister-paths, I look around and I see with my inner eye, which one I should take. My feet have carried me thus far, and I walk more confidently now.
At the end lies the great, sunlit field, surrounded by forests like a fortress, its paths beautifully plunging down and rising up, bathed in light. A warm summer day, seemingly endless, carried by the great golden chariot in the sky.
Not a pariah anymore, I finally belong to the eternal Moment. I can lie in the shade, submerged in deep thought, and I will live. I can look at the burning sun, the primordial fire, warm myself up when lost, and I will live.
To be able to breathe again, unrestrained by the weight of low consciousness and then, upon returning to the world of man, to suffer its low nature more heavily. To have sought only to see men who refuse to open their eyes. Resting unnecessarily, deluded and overwhelmed by the plague of inaction.
I have lived a life of misdirection and abandonment – an abandonment of the Great Promise of human existence.
The Great Promise of liberation, of its pursuit,
of its Attainment.