Wednesday, September 13, 2017


~The last person you would ever know, is yourself ~
Most of my life
I am a stranger to myself.
Things I don't know.
Potential of all I can be.
I think there is an invisible hand
Pulling a curtain
Hiding me from myself
And the Universe
From both of us.
Trinity. Separation.
But there are moments.
A wormhole or two open up
Trinity is gone
Me and myself don't  exist.
I see one, not three.
I cherish those moments.
For I see with clarity.
The questions that I don't know
That I don't know how to answer.
Are the questions I didn't ask
From myself, because I assumed
I don't know.
Or too complicated for my brain
Forgetting that brains are numerous
But consciousness is one
Believe me, there is only one consciousness
In this universe and beyond
Consciousness resides in non-existence
You just have to tap into it.
And don't be surprised.
When you get there.
You forget to ask anything
Not forget, just seems silly to ask
Since you already know the answer.
You would know milk is not white
And milk is not black. Milk is just milk
But most importantly, who even cares?
What milk is?
September 13, 2017