23 November 2014

Four Hundred and One

401


Your raison d'être is what you think about in the darkness alone.

* * * *
The nothingness offers little into which imagination can bite, ergo, much ado about it.

* * * *
Every birth the creation of a new universe, every death the destruction of one.

* * * *
You have never been anywhere but this ever-present, eternal now.

* * * *
What a petty god that needs incessant worship and praise.

* * * *
Creator and creation are always one in the same.

* * * *
It is a quantum-eat-quantum universe.

* * * *
So many carnivals, so little time.

* * * *
Lost in time, found in time.

* * * *
A collusion of imaginary proportion.

* * * *
The senses and mind timelessly creating time.

* * * *
It is not how or where you begin, but how and where you end.

* * * *
The senses are the veil that words sew with the robust thread of imagination.

* * * *
Identity is something of a trespasser, a squatter, upon the indivisible divinity of awareness.

* * * *
Life is a long string of decisions, of choices, to which the only end is death.