There is some absolute way that I can be everything, and nothing. I don’t know what that means, exactly, but it’s possible. I could be absolutely anything I wanted to, and because it’s all in how I view it, I could, theoretically, simultaneously be nothing.
I have to drink up everything I can, suck it all in, because I only get this one chance. This one short, brief, little opportunity to experience everything I can.
I can throw away everything I’ve ever had. I could. I don’t know if I could let myself, currently, but isn’t that a limitation? Having nothing is paradoxically having more. Interesting, isn’t it, how things that make the least sense can mean the most.
I just want to be in this magnificent blender of experience where everything is magnificent and beautiful and appreciable and magnificent.
Yeah, appreciable. That’s what I’m looking for.
And I just know it’s there, it’s here, and I am the only thing that’s needed to see it. I am the final piece.
Who cares? I could be living in a cardboard box, and eating dogfood. If I’m experiencing more that way, is that better? Is doing something worth it just for the sake of doing it? Why is it that questions are the answers?
Maybe it isn’t all just. It isn’t is. It won’t just be. It’s all in the creation. It doesn’t really exist. You just make it.
Curious, isn’t it?