The truth of what's here

the truth of what's here

feeling aimless, but yet strangely fulfilled

not feeling a need to bend reality or chase a wild dream

not feeling a craving to extract or Source the next move

not feeling a pulse to create anything really

"create anything really"

as if creation only occurs in isolation

segmented moments of my choosing

what a fascinating concept we've created there

no, the Life that is currently present

that runs through all things

that my mind scrambles to label

identify

just simply is

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