Drifting Bodies & Shifting Minds

Drifting Bodies and Shifting Minds
Gifting memories with rifting experiences

Living in the differences, finding the difference within the difference of the difference
I have become a nuisance to the wants of the indifferent
Flicked by each one, flipped by everyone
I am no one to raise the one in each one

With no dimension to mention and with no mention of a dimension to make my illusory mansion
I await in the depths of my breath for my dear friend, death

Death as a memory to relieve me of my memories, to relive another memory
I am tangled in the web of my own fury

In a world that bows to the glory, I make my story a fairy
A fairy story to makeup my dairy, A dreary dairy

Bounded by the pleasures of the flesh
Hounded by the measures of my minds mesh
I am found within this mesh of the flesh

Bodies as a manifestation of the thought
and thought as expression through the bodies
I have become an extension of the thought of the body, living in the knot of the shoddy

Unaware and unable to recognize the nature of this thought, I go about being a feature of my own drought

The thought that is crowned, the thought that is downed, the thought that is abound
And the thought, thinking of the thought of the thought that is confound may come across the nature of its own nature
To liberate, to desecrate, to negate, to disintegrate each thought and every thought

Maybe here, maybe then, I may come across that which is not of the body, through the mind of the body nor the knot of that which is taught
For the thought that is not caught, is not of the taught and not of the sought.

Adrift

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My Self

All is an expression of myself, a reflection of myself
Reflecting on to myself, a self with no self to itself, in itself, for itself
selling itself to another self to know itself
forgetting that the myself i sold to another self is another self but not myself

To hate/love some one, is to “know” someone
To know someone is to share experiences with some one, to make memories with someone, of someone
I say i love my mother, friend etc because i know that someone, i have a memory of experience with that someone
I wonder if my memory is hate/love
I wonder if i am in love with that someone or if i am actually in love with my own memory, my own perception of that someone or memory of someone

As i tangle and dangle in this perception and my own deception of loving someone/something that is out there in my thought, in my knot and within my heart

I lose myself in the memory of another to create another, one another, only to realize my tether
For the tether to another is another feather.
So i look for comfort in these feathers of the other’s, in these another’s
Not realizing that every feather is only a prop and will drop making my tears drop

In these tears i tear the trap of my map to see my nap
The nap that i am in, the tap i dance to, in the fence i built
Whence i made my fort of comfort within this fence and hence that which i called love
For i can never know the nature of this fort of comfort when i am in it, within it

To look at this fort, is to get out of the fort, to brace the weather
The weather i have hid myself from, the self that i hid myself from that i call MY self
And when i get to this My Self and wants to know My self, i can never know MY self

For the self has no self to itself till i call it MY self to make it myself
in reference to another self who has their own self but neither is a self with no shelf that needs no help and yet is a self less self knowing itself

For the self that wants to know itself can never know itself
And when the self thinks it knows itself, it is no longer itself but another perception of itself, myself.

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