I feel expanded. Like my chest is a window into space, and all I am is there.
I feel like my body is a candy shell coating. I feel like I want to see that image created with pen and ink and color. I feel the need to imprint it on my skin and show the world the truth, amuse myself with the imagine upon image, like a photo of a photo of a photo. I wish to etch it upon this skin which feels like so thin a layer of existence holding all I am inside boundaries delicate like tissue paper and easily broken. I feel I would not much object to such a tear, for inside I am the universe, all there is, ever expanding, ever existing, always space and time and matter swirling in existence as space. Such a boundary broken would do nothing but cease the definition of outline.
I feel like my personality is a limited as puppet string, my body less descriptive than a single illustrated caricature. I feel those who look at me and see me, see nothing of what I am. And I am disgusted by the idea they love pieces of me, of the not me, and not the glorious I am presence that I actually am
I would shake them, show them me, but in all honesty they must know. No being as great as I am, equal to all others just as great inside candy shell bodies of their own could not know. They just pretend to not know. And so we dance.
I am guilty of the deception too. Of the pretending. Like I became a method actor, believing my owns lines, yet such comparison is so limited in scope. The comparison is nothing similar to the actuality of what I am and what I pretend to be. I have finally realized the game. I have finally seen the reality. I have figured it out. And now I want to laugh, even as I must respect the others their wishes to play out their part, even as I wish they were like me, able to see.
If everyone is such as this, if everyone is so expanded within their human candy shell, I must love them, all of them, already. It is impossible not to love such an infinite thing. Such consciousness. Such mass. For it is beautiful. I can only speak in my experience seeing my own self at such a level, through the window of my chest, but I must say, my beauty alone stole the very heart of me. And I know I am equal to all others such as me. And I must love their beauty in logical extrapolation.
When I saw this, although the image still hangs with me now, I was in meditation. I sat breathing in the taste/feel of the universe that is me. I still feel the breath that connects me. Its like deep breathing in the coolness of the mountains, among all the trees who breath life into the air together in symphony. I miss the image, it still hangs in my minds eye, but the edges grow fuzzy with the forgetting. And I breathe and the remembrance is strengthened a bit longer.
I have seen this before, I remember now. I have seen this image, remembered this realization, been enlightened before, and forgot. All part if the game I suppose. I do not wish to forget again. I wish to revisit this truth often. Keep it in my minds eye. Be aware of all that is. Because when I begin to think the candy shell is all there is, my mind and thoughts and wants turn shallow. And I am disgusted by myself.
Perhaps I must learn to love the me that is so shallow. Perhaps I am meant to learn to love the pieces of me too. Perhaps I am meant to love all of me, even the human candy shell. After all I wished to be this candy, this personality, this mortal thing. I must have wanted to. This must be my most aching desire at present, or it would not be made manifest.
And so perhaps the game is not to just remember, but to remember and love anyway. To respect my own wishes to play out the farce and smile in the knowing of what I know. While pretending not to know of course
A concept of my personality i do appreciate is this. I dislike lies. I do not like the cage of them. I do not like the idea of forever pretending.
However actors are not liars, they’re children playing dress up, mockers of characters, creators of living tales. As are we. As am I
I do not wish to forget still, I reiterate and maintain this. I like knowing who I am, even as I find words cannot define me. At least I now know. All is beauty. All is content. And I feel peace. It feels like the breath I am at the very heart of me.