
The Second On-Coming.
I have been blessed with a lot of conversationalists in my life. I have great talks with people in different realms and perspective, often debating, explore dimensions of existence that feels awkward to feel, and even more awkward to mention. Eventually arrive at ‘agha’, ending with “gotcha / interesting’. Conversations when being blown by art of someone else’s existence is mere overreaction. Story so shacking, inspiring or difficult it makes you wonder if it took universe millennia to just articulate that. The originality in experience is raw and foretold as truth for times to pass. Lived experiences where outside instructions or guideline were not a tool, but relying on self and awareness of being. We do have limitations in words and language but our pride and individualism is more limiting for us.
It Started When You Were Speaking.
Although we get caught with the story telling as one way of fully immerse our experience. Continuously being reminded of the lesson, it is like lesson so alive it lives through you in many forms. You start living specks of the past, tunnels form out of depth of raw past that still remind you how small you felt. Slowly setting the environment to experience, the same one that left you speechless, crawling the walls of meaning while shouting foreign words. Neither you nor director of your experience understand each other. They want you to learn, you want them to stop.
Some people find comfort on telling the story, slowly stripping the scab from fresh wound. But even with gregarious proprietorship, the awning of remembrance is dark and tunneled by our vision of being saved. Casting ourselves more than what we are, exhausting the set up with our own demands. Some people try to move on, overtly avoiding existence that might speak about it like a living plague. Bending fibers of our being around an invisible boundary, caging our pride in small space hoping to never live it.
Dreading, Maybe The Next Best Form
I started dissociation early ages of my life despite being very detail oriented person. Nothing passed through me without many levels of scanning over consuming or dissecting it until I had proper comfort for it. Because indeed, everything I am exposed with also I am product of. I was quickly overwhelmed when I realized that things outside of me required certain use of my energies either emotional, spiritual voidness, or physical exhaustion of me being. I did not want to avoid things that are set up for me as a respect for the creators, although I was dreading certain parts of it.
Naturally, I inclined towards disassociate, out of giving up to participate in that said set-up. Then, existence got more interesting, it is almost like you can predict the next best expression for the set-up, because now you are not scanning, absorbing or responding, you are in a overture overseeing. In the outer layers of existence, the fibers of existence overspinning to reach you, to pull you in, get in dance, you might make a difference. They spite, but only way they can reach you is to be as wide and omnipresent as you are, exist in outer layers of existence, misery, density of reason and logic. They know you know.





