Categories
Topics

Unnamed reality breath

What is this false world!

The light was converted into sound and bounced across the world and back again.

Lights flashed and I communicated with the world and friends.

Giga pitched sound brought forth new music to me.

And using using copper lines I could undertake my day’s work and chores.

Instantly, the news was updated and my perception updated itself.

My activity and emotions were shuttled forth and directed through a thousand patterns till it was analysed and categorised.

londondream2

My reality was converted into nothing and something a million times a second like a frenzied super atman hyperventilating a bizarre and better hallucination. Atman reiterating and recreating itself like a bubble from the ocean’s depth becoming smaller bubbles, larger bubbles, smaller bubbles, until it became the whole sky pushing the water down.

And the new world was then manifested before my eyes, breathed out into life by myself and breathed in by the supermachine, working in harmony together to create a great new expanding reality, one that in fact I grew up with and helped form; a new reality that now has started trickling out beyond its shell and started merging and mingling with my inner world.

A reality that has now taken over more and more till it stood in the way of my connection with the world. Blocking the door, blocking the light, recreating it. Communication, travel, opportunities, sustenance, shelter, news, consumption and everything is now converted into a language I cannot speak; converted into a sound I cannot hear and transmitted beyond my reach.

With this new reality, I have overstretched my self. I am no longer an a single entity in this world only; I also now exist elsewhere beyond my own felt experience.

Today it was raining outside – a rain that drenched my hair and dripped from my curls and ran down my brow. Water that formed droplets held together by a shining internal suspension. A droplet caught wobbling between eyelashes till I blinked. A sweet droplet I tasted. A droplet caught in the rough wool fibres of my jumper, till I shook it off for it to join a billion other droplets mixed into the air, a sweet air with the smell of pollen, grass and crab apple flowers. Fresh spring air, that I can breathe slowly and consciously.