The Sweet and the Warm, The Cold and the Harsh

Intense heat. Smothering humidity. Sweat dripping out of every pore on your skin. You try to breathe to calm yourself down but it feels like breathing hot steam - only thicker.

From a place you spend much of your time in dreams, a thought snowballs into something more; wrestles itself into reality. No. Reality willingly lets it come through, matching its grace and thoughtless, solemn sense of purpose.

A cool breeze gently caresses the back of your neck. The slightest movement of matter so small it cannot be seen by your eye. You stand on the brink of awareness.

When you are lost (beyond all hope). When you turn to the Universe and say, "Now there is nothing between you and me; I am completely lost and there is no hope". You stand on the brink of awareness.

When a man roams a great harsh desert desperately searching for water, or sits in the silence of his prison, searching for reason. It is then through the hazy fog of reality does the glimmer of Truth reveal itself, momentarily. We search for it in the four corners of the Earth, but it is buried deep within us, woven through the fabric of our existence.

I can only see what I cannot see. The peripheral vision of the soul. This life is nothing but an illusion. Every molecule we believe to exist only buries us deeper, wrapping us, leaving us entangled ever deeper in the sweet and the warm, the cold and the harsh.. the illusion.

I can see but I do not understand, the regression analysis of skill. There is only one source, of that I am sure. What the nature of that source is, I haven't the clarity of mind to know.

The source of all suffering is our arrogance; we think we understand reality. We think we see cause and effect. The real questions about reality are much more complex, and the answers much simpler.