I
often daydream in my mind how the universe inside is as big as the universe
outside. Ain’t no telescopes pointed into our universes though; in fact, it
often gets obscured and blurred and fogged out in order to encourage us
building material identities instead, and when we get sick of a material
identity, we just start piecing together a different one. Kinda fucked up
actually, because there’s never satisfaction involved. I hadn’t been able to
explore my internal universe all that easily lately, kinda in a fog myself,
feels like everywhere I’m wandering internally is places I’ve seen a whole
bunch already, and no real meandering into unmapped territory yet. There’s also
spaces which I know I’ve been but I don’t got no recollection about so am
afraid of accidentally stumbling back into some shit that my internal
cartographer (utilizing universal magnetics) aided me in forgetting about, and
I’m gonna remember some shit that fucks me up even worse than I already am.
(Some things are best left forgotten to be honest – knowing all doesn’t make us
more functional all the time, in fact, the history of human progress is pretty
good testament to the fact knowing more actually creates dysfunction.) I don’t
rightly know how to point a telescope into my self that easily – used to be
substances helped, but I try to not fall down those hills anymore. Gonna try
just sitting in the yard I guess, because even if nothing comes from it,
sitting in the yard is good practice, especially if nothing comes from it.
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