Reflections

All is a reflection of myself, reflecting myself the reflection of the self I call MY self
I see my reflection in the eye and in the I of every thing around me and within every act of mine
The reflection is in my act and the very thought of myself about MY self and thus the other self in reference to myself

Not knowing this, I reflect the reflections within the reflections of my reflected self
And when I reflect the reflections of the reflections, I loose the essence of my self
And become a reflected self that is neither a reflection nor that which is reflecting

In this new reflection, I am neither MY self nor the reflected self but an idea of a self of reflection, a concept of reflection of the reflection
In reflecting the reflection, I become a hallucination and in this hallucination I become a delusion to myself, a deterioration of myself

In this deteriorated hallucigenic reflection of myself, I wander to render the wants, wants covered in needs and needs covered in wants, the wants of these reflections that I have become, that I am being
Always trying to satisfy my wants and manipulating the other to satisfy my wants
And I forget that I am also another want of the other who wants to satisfy their wants
For the other only comes to me for their own wants but never my wants

Every relationship as a want whether it takes the cover of fear/like or love. The words may change but the essence remains the same
Every “WANT” in every relationship is simply a want of the other to the other, even when it is the others want to satisfy my want, it is still their want and not my want
Knowing this what will I want from the other? and most importantly, what will I want with the want within my self?

All of my wants are reflections of my wants within my reflections to myself
All reflections are realities and all realities are reflections of myself
when I actually know this and be this, I may become and be a different kind of reflection
For there will still be the perception of reflection but only as an expression and not in essence nor in the very thought that is creating the reflection

And when the very essence of my thought has changed, what would such kind of reflection reflect?
what kind of reflective reality will I live in, for myself?

For, to reflect is not to reflect at all
In not reflecting, I reflect that which wants to reflect to itself but not to me
I no longer reflect the other or become the other or my very thought from the reflection of the reflection but I let see the reflection of the reflection to itself within me and without THE me

Maybe then, there is no longer me/my/I or a self that I call MY Self.

Reflecting

Bloglovin

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.

Bloglovin