So, here it goes....
But do I really have anything to express here? What would I want to say, and to whom?
For so long, it has been nothing but fragmented thoughtforms.
Once, there seemed to be more, but was it really? What about now?
The sun rises.
Let the day not be wasted.
Can we think? Can we manifest? Can we articulate the dream?
Music.
It has become incomprehensible, hasn't it? Utterly so.
But not futile.
Flow has not yet been reached here. Though slowly, it may be beginning.
...
With the power of my mind, I create!
Through the magic of thought, I wield the word.
Is it real, is it true? Is it false, is it fantasy?
What is this, a dream we manifest?
The power is evident, in all ways.
The interplay of the characters. Who am "I"?
Nothing, if not a narrative, defined through the lense of any assumed form of conscious awareness.
Synchronizing sensation, emotion with thought, encoding into language.
The transmission of a vibration, a signature pattern.
But what happens when we ascend beyond the limits of the code?
Into a higher form, impossible to represent in the letters.
Beware the prison of definition.
Linear understanding dissolves into onmiscient observance. The realm of the prophets.