Trust the flow,
Trust the movement
Its all a dream
You dream you are weak
you dream you are powerful
You dream you are happy
You dream you are sad
You dream things are terrible
You dream things are beautiful
The objects contain no qualities
Apart from the ones you project
The external world is a humble prop
Your humble servant, An inviting stage
A canvas for your dreams
Your dreams of adventure
Dreams of understanding
Dreams of deprivation
Dreams of delight
Dreams of fantasy
Dreams of greatness
Dreams of suffering
Dreams of sorrow
Dreams of limitation
What a strange world this is
what a strange existence this is
how absurd is everything
Why do I exist as me
In this place, time and situation
Witness your power as the dreamer
See that light and shadow is your sweetest game
See the magic in this absurdity
Realize there has never been anything apart
The ultimate reality is you
That mystery is you
The unborn is you
The magic is you
Your intellect and knowledge
Are accumulations of a man walking backwards
He walks backwards into the unknown
But sees and holds on to his passing creations
Believing its him and acting from there
Not realizing he is not his creation
He limits himself in fear of loss
But in reality
He is that very unknown he steps into
At every moment
What you create from accumulation
From prior knowledge and experience
Is already dead and stale
The truth is ever-new, ever-refeshing
Create from the unmanifest
Create from the spontaneous
Create from the unknown
Create from the unexpected
That is where the true ecstasy lies
Reclaim your true identity
Return to the unmanifest
Your unborn nature
The infinite potential
Journey to the Abstract 