My Writings

The Mirror

I felt drawn towards the mirror, and I stared deeply into the eyes of the man who stood there. And I couldn’t recognize him. A staged encounter, bait thrown my way – bait for a deluded mind. Whatever it was that I called my self is now gone, like fish torn from water and onto the hostile ground – I opened my mouth to breathe, but He tore out my tongue.

Still I mask myself in words. Still I let my face rest in dark contemplation. And you will see that the pendulum has swung too far for me, and the pain now weighs too heavy on me. You will feel it, because you are human, too. You see the cross that I carry, because I did not know the blessing – to be devoid of emotion – to be an empty husk. Instead, I am a flower in bloom, but I also have to be my own sun, as He provided none.

And so I carry myself – alone – through the Material. My mind – it has recognized His light, and like a moth it shoots itself into His flame. The flame seemingly trembles for an instant, and carries on undisturbed. I have seen the fire around the edges of my vision. Like the acid that eats through the stomach, and day to day we rebuild our sorry defenses, so my dim eyes and even blinder wit have refused to see the sorry state in which they find themselves. Surely, as a means of survival.

But I cannot run away from myself any longer. I have rejected the easy route, as it has only led to retardation. I stood proudly before Him, and stated that I will walk the path less treaded, but He broke my legs. Then I saw that I need no legs to follow Him in the Transcendental, but He fed my wolf mind to the dogs.

Hands now squeeze the head, and the body has fallen on one knee. Eyes – unseeing – are pointed at the heavens, seeking answers. That is how I see myself. I have built an image in my visions to commemorate the suffering… of the man I used to call myself. And I kneel down to pay my respects.

I alone hold him in my arms, I close his eyes and take him away to rest.

Far from here.

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