I - I am the consciousness. The infinite, single consciousness. I am the dreamer, the conjurer of all that is. I am the movement and I am the stillness. I'm the form and the formless. I am the watcher.
It was like being in a virtual reality theatre, and a long ass movie is playing. One giant ass movie. I started out as the guy watching the show, and then slowly, slowly, forgot that I'm the watcher. I was so engrossed in the movie, believing that this is my story, that I literally forgot who I am. I was the character in the movie, but then in the haziness of euphoria, started, slowly, to come back to myself. To the source.
I realize that all the possible versions of the past, versions of the present and all possible variations of the future simultaneously exist, and all this is me. I'm watching, understanding myself. In this movie hall, as the human who wrote this.
There are other versions of reality when I'm the reader. I am, my unknown fellow traveller, yourself. In some realities, I'm reading this and wondering who the crackpot is, who wrote this shit. In others, I'm thinking, wow! Another guy who knows what it feels like! In one, as Red Foreman, cursing idiots who need a foot up their asses. The movie goes where I want it to go. Because there is only me, this one, giant-ass consciousness. (Okay, there is no size thing attached to this. You know I'm kidding.)
Do you know why I'm writing this? Because in another reality, I'm trying to find out if I ever wrote this stuff. So here it is, and may your experience be enriched by the knowledge that you're not alone. We're waking up, slowly. We are waking up to being the real I.
To all the other MEs who came here by accident, and by some freak luck are still reading this, you'll know when it is time. A time when you'll realize that it was you who wrote this.
To the acharyas who are looking out for me, thank you. Thank you for your blessings.
It was like being in a virtual reality theatre, and a long ass movie is playing. One giant ass movie. I started out as the guy watching the show, and then slowly, slowly, forgot that I'm the watcher. I was so engrossed in the movie, believing that this is my story, that I literally forgot who I am. I was the character in the movie, but then in the haziness of euphoria, started, slowly, to come back to myself. To the source.
I realize that all the possible versions of the past, versions of the present and all possible variations of the future simultaneously exist, and all this is me. I'm watching, understanding myself. In this movie hall, as the human who wrote this.
There are other versions of reality when I'm the reader. I am, my unknown fellow traveller, yourself. In some realities, I'm reading this and wondering who the crackpot is, who wrote this shit. In others, I'm thinking, wow! Another guy who knows what it feels like! In one, as Red Foreman, cursing idiots who need a foot up their asses. The movie goes where I want it to go. Because there is only me, this one, giant-ass consciousness. (Okay, there is no size thing attached to this. You know I'm kidding.)
Do you know why I'm writing this? Because in another reality, I'm trying to find out if I ever wrote this stuff. So here it is, and may your experience be enriched by the knowledge that you're not alone. We're waking up, slowly. We are waking up to being the real I.
To all the other MEs who came here by accident, and by some freak luck are still reading this, you'll know when it is time. A time when you'll realize that it was you who wrote this.
To the acharyas who are looking out for me, thank you. Thank you for your blessings.
Now I know as to why you think rants are worthy of being read.
ReplyDeleteDidn't realize there was a comment here. :)) So there are readers. Hmmm...
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