In the beginning I was floating… No direction, no sense, no feeling.  Or was it the beginning?

Then it came. Like a sound. But it was a wave.  A ripple in the fabric of my vision. A thundering wave molded from velvet darkness and liquid infinity. It’s progress was reverberating in my soul like the steps of an angel in a deserted hall of stone.  Each step has it’s own descending power, each step marks the passing of an age.

After the first wave there was light and rays and halos. Luminous clouds were rolling,  chasing the sound, altering the perception, swirling around the center. And sinuous thoughts were taking form, attraction was forming, gravity was taking a hold. In all this time, the observer was observed, the  life kept claiming more and more from the nothingness.

So pulled I was. To that and that and that. To feelings, to emotions, to facts and non-facts, to illusions, to forms … Attraction acting  as a law,  my own blindness acting as a sticky glue, leaving me bound to things without value, to an unrelenting past and a tangled web of petty tyrants.

Step after step, wave after wave, crushing my own illusions I keep walking, I keep trying to return to the inner state of no turmoil, to the point where is no gravity, to the point where I am what I am.

Same old struggle. Me, or what I think Me is…




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