Walking around river..

"He is right", I understand now.
Consiousness spinning, moving into one, and then another. Millions of moving dreams, flow through streams, of the past starry nights.

Bleeding self, is bleeding others, until theres' no blood left. Falling like leafs from the trees, it never stops to look around while in fall.

" I know ", but not as thought.

" I see myself, and Im sorry. "

However myself be slanted, I still see you, and remember, " Me ", as the waves of time pass me by, and tell me a ryme.

I feel, but oly through infliction of self, for I became numb long ago. Self contanied, like the 'turtle, for that is my real nickname, that it mostly wars because of shame, while spinning in this game. The game of life we have created, in this universe in which we live.

There are many collective observations, perceptions of everything 'known' in its universal perception.

" That is one of mine."

See.
Its that simple.
Not knowing, knowing, everything and nothing, all at the seame time.

That is what everything in which we know, while yet knowing nothing.

Paradox.

Attachement is obtained by threading to the other parts, of whatever posistion in the sphere of itself.

Whatever self is found in it.

Viewing anthing, in which is 'needed' for self, is another fallacy. But the act of not is yet another still.

The center is stable,
yet so hard to, 'center'.

Fears manifestet, then projected, between the 'two', what will they do?

Center.

It depends not with the other, only something in which we individually can only do.

It reallydoes not depend on ay other for what we can, or will do.

I t is best the to disocver self.

Ad then to fully know, it is in our awo hands to grow.
To then see the rainbow makers.

Hard journey.

Log winded times.

It comes and goes.
The swinging pendulums of polarity.

The heart beat of the one.

The one, the all.

As we ride along a shelf, in the double helix of life.

And worried about the cokcrouches in the house, while on the floor, looking for the bracelet behind the washing machine.

Oh my, so far in the distant parth, I hardly made out the shadow.

"Lucid"?

Dreams that have faded, softly sinking from the dust of the mind. The only memory is the preset.

Forgetting our past.

"Remembering" our future.

From the days of old, before understanding was on paper.
.
Before we started to 'forget'.

Now, however, we, again are re-reaching that point of, 'knowing'.

But we do.

Need others.

The universe supports itself as a whole, by the many "shelfs" in the spiral of the helix.

All are connected, and have the same current fro flow through it, as the whole. Change in one shelf, affects the whole, as in the human helix, change affects the entire spiral for good, or bad, as what we percieve as such, being part of the spiral , and the whole, thus making while of what it is.

Center.

Self into the whole. Forming the bond through self, letting go.

It requires 'self', nothing else, but all then. For without the other selfs, we, or I could not exist, without its fitting into the spiral as a segment.

I continue to loose focus, sight of it all, then remember and know, only to forget again.

Time and circumstances change quickly. Rapid pace of all htere is, as the spiral looses itself too singularity.

How many times does it happen. How many?

Remember. Never forget.

Know. The time sits out there, coming, as our shelf flows to that time, on the great spiral of life.