…but can I go to where I cannot be ? Be in a World that isn’t mine ? Believe a liar, when truth will flee an understanding Mind ?
To which way, & wherefore, thus could it be….I’m not where I should be, yet all is truly mine for the wanting !
Surely, these words go stalemate in a mountebank’s deluded
demented brain, disfigured inside & out, incapable of ascertaining what is simple & quite obvious.
Is there a place where the air stops breathing ? Save perchance in a hole underneath the comic stage of life and death, where no air moves ?
Is there a better place for the soul, than there where the devil led me to this dark mysterious haven he calls home ?
.. .. .. .
Sparkling like a fire cracker in the night, God’s voice sprinkled on me the wayward step to Eternity.
But can I go where I cannot be ? Is there an illusory artificial Matrix ? … when I shudder at the thought, : “It’s me. I made it all up.”
The Seven Arts. The Color Scale. The long silver & golden squares. The books the beads. The Calendars. The wheat. The King. The SLAVE. The ale & the beer.
The constellations, the zodiacal houses of our abundant narcissism.
The devil. The gods. Good and Evil.
I’m to blame.
All those mathematical conundrums belong to the death knoll of me and you and those to be !
But can I go where I cannot be ?
“Wherever we are it’s always us. No one else is there but our lonely true selves. Nothing is a hologram. Except David Icke and Mister Bean.”
*** ** **
I’ll wait till morning comes. When the arthritis in the limbs disappears. All my anatomy disintegrated into nano dust, good for the compost bin.
My Soul wandering forward thru Infinite Spirit, till I get to where I cannot be.
But have become someone else. In the wink of an eye !
Only being as always, me.
Impressive.