Why

The answer to every question is why
and the question to every answer is why
I speak not of “Why?” but I speak of “Why”
For this “Why?” is seeking/dependent on the answer from the other and this “why” is independent of the answer

When I live in why, fear in the why and love in the why
Maybe then I will be able to understand for myself,
the why that is questioning, the why that has the questions, the answers, the fear and the love

Maybe then, I may come across the why that is questioning the why
For in this why, I may find out the why behind the why that raised the why within the why

And in this why that raised the why, this why that is questioning the why, I may find out not an answer, to the why to the why, but a different kind of question
Rather than ending the question with an answer, I may come across the question to the question

Now maybe if I question the question that is questioning the question
I may come across the why, that is asking the why that is asking the why, that there is a why to the why to the why.

This may look like, I am trying to get to a point of origination of the why to my trained mind but it is not
So long as there is a point of origination, a root, then that root becomes my reference point, that becomes my perception, My filter, my new reality, my own confinement to find an answer within the other / a self, separate thought within the thought

For each reality I create with my perception is another illusion, for my perception is also an illusion and each illusion I create is my new reality, for my perception is my reality
For both reality and illusion are perceptions of the same mind, same thought

So now that I question the why that is questioning the why that is questioning the why, not to find an answer, not to do this or that and simply questioning why
I wonder of the state of that mind
I wonder of the state of that very thought

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Meditation

Meditation as my medication
Another form of intoxication, another form of hallucigenic dictation, to escape into an imagination
to create a new scape, a new cape to gape
I take shape to reshape the same shape

Meditation as a repitive mechanistic idea
Meditation as a habit, as a pratice
I become a babbit to that practiced habit

I may Ace my face in this habit and hop around like a rabbit as I inhibit the persona of the exhibit
For now i have become an exhibit, a inhibit to my very self
To prohibit myself, to come out of my shelf

For Mediation when practiced as a habit, as a repetitive idea, whether attached to my current habit, or developed as a new habit, will just be another habit
Another habit that will eventually loose its luster as soon as the pleasure of the new habit has faded, for that very idea of habit is jaded
For all I am trying to do is to fulfill my desire to achieve something (the quality of the desire might differ but still there is a want, even if it is a want of no want, no desire)

Mediation practiced as a space, as a place to hide away for a few min or few hours or as a place to mind the mind, “control” the mind
replace the current images of the mind, occupy the mind with a different imagination to experience some form of my perception of ecstasy/bliss, a place to go away, a space to escape from my daily life,
My daily life that is not serving my pleasures and wants of the pleasures and wants of the mind born out of pleasures and wants will just be that –
A framed, a confined, however refined it is, still a confined “hallucination” that the mind will eventually get used to
which inturn will no longer serve my wants to fulfill my wants of peace/bliss/love/ecstasy etc.

For now, the practice of one mediatation is no longer serving me, I will start swinging between this type of mediation and that type of mediation, never understanding my want, my desire to meditate in the first place, to “escape” in the first place.

And meditations of this type, any type, will be like this to me – Before meditation I am digging my hole with a shovel and when I have gotten into habit, into the practice of meditation, I will dig my hole with a bulldozer.

Maybe when I actually see this, actually realize this nature of the practice, nature of all these well known mediations, nature of my own minds habit, will I still go after developing and attaching more habits to my already habituated mind, my practiced mind, filling/replacing more of the refined confinements?

Or will meditation be something entirely different for me?, as a space to become completely “Aware” of every single thought that is happening within me, questioning the nature of every thought and the very thought itself, and the self I call myself that is thinking of these thoughts?

Maybe then i will Question, Question the Question, Question the Question that is questioning the question?

I wonder, What would such a mind of mine be then?

Will I then become aware, totally aware with utmost attention, not focus but “complete attention”, complete responsibility to my every thought that may bring upon a different change within me, that may take me beyond habit, beyond practice, beyond every form of meditation out there?

Then, maybe then, will I still need to confine my mind, my thoughts for few min, few hours of this and that silly medications?

For now, maybe now, every thought, every second and every part of my life and the very life itself is a meditation in itself, a meditation of “Awareness”, A mediataion of “examination”.

A meditation of wonder, wondering the wonder that is wondering of the wonder to wonder of wonder with no wonder to wonder wonder
Maybe …..

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Game of Love

In the name of Love
In the game of Love

In the fame of Love
In the frame of Love

In the blame of Love
In the shame of Love

I try to fit in to the same name to play the known game and share a little fame in the big frame while all along I am my own blame and my own shame!
For there is no such “thing” called Love, no “description” called Love, no feeling called Love
For something to call love is to separate it from it entirety and label it, isn’t it?
So is separated part called Love?

The Love that i call Love is another confinement, a refined confinement to fill myself with the idea, to live in the imagination of this idea
A comfortable idea per say that provides me with the fort of comfort and the hidden pleasure within this fort

In this idea, in this imagination that i have borrowed from the memory of the other and repeated unto myself, experiencing other’s memory
I live in this idea, hide behind this idea, Abide by this Idea
Is this idea Love?

I say i love you unconditionally, with no condition
Isn’t that another condition that i borrowed to study the rules of an unconditional condition of an idea called love?
Isn’t uncondition a condition, for another condition

I say, i love the world, “I love” everyone and “I want” every one to be happy, want every one to live in love
What is that which is common in all these statements? is it “I Want”, “I Love”, I this, I that?
Am i not satisfying “MY OWN WANT”
Even when i want good for them, isn’t it still my perception of my want of them that i am trying to satisfy within myself?

So How can i love someone else, when all i love is my own perception, my own image of my own idea of the other?
Is that Love?

So to satisfy this idea within me
I tag along, drag along and brag all along
I hide behind the tide to abide and confide
I become a strife to my very own grief

Walking in these perceptions of myself,
I become a deception to myself
A contradiction to myself
As i walk this path of addiction to satisfy my own satisfaction of my own restrictions
I make this my jurisdiction

Never to ask myself who is it that is within me that thinks about this notion of love to make it my motion of love
Where did i get this thought of love to begin with

For all my life, i have known of the known making it my known which was never my known
So i wonder if the so called idea of love that which is known in million different known’s called Love?

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