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A constant streaming thought

Ok, so I might be taking this down as quick as I'm putting this up. this is word for word out of my journal. Sept 4, 2012. And I'm nervous about having it on here. But something this morning said do it and I did. If I end up leaving it, I have more C.s.t.

One.
Time is relative, so is perception, so is truth behind words.
Regression is state of mind, a story memorized.
The story is the ego, the ego is not I, is not us.
Yet, projection is the air… the oxygen, of an egos temple.
A play is every second created, written, relative.
 
So speak to me… beautifully…
Then I might speak to you, or I might just listen.
 
I see orbs of light, without sky or night.
I see life, breathing as one… when lack of definition is just right.
Love. Is all that can truly be.
Everything else is just for fun.
Even chaos has its place.
A forest fire burns the temples of the many spirits around me.
It releases the spirits, it births fresh, healthy new temples of life in it’s aftermath.
Life goes on, within us and without us,
The “Us” to me is the ego…
And the spirit has no need for such formalities.
Actors in a cosmic play upon the Goddess, our temples mother,
and under the God sky, our mothers father.
We play upon the spell of Brother Sun and Sister Moon.
All is made of star dust.
 
Live and let live…
Die and let die…
Live and learn…
Die and remember…
Live and die…
Die and live…
As you have, as you will…
God is You are God.
…So be it…

(2012)

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