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Coming Clean

Things reveal themselves to me.

At times days in advance, at other times years in advance. I meet people years before I "really" meet them. I notice them before they even begin to appear to play their part in my movie. I can't explain it the way I'm living it or describe how this happens. Images, previews, visions, dreams. It gets so weird sometimes that I look for the real live curtains and cameras that are constructing the play that is my life.

I'm grateful for the Yogi's that showed up, that said things begin to get weird (I'm paraphrasing) when consciousness wakes up from the illusion of this game-world.

Stories upon stories are told of Seers, and as my spontaneous meditative states get deeper and I discover even more that time, space, and every other condition we believe exists in this "physical" reality really isn't there at all, I start holding the handles on my chair a little firmer.

I woke up from sleep tasting a dish my mom makes for me in my mouth. Like really tasting it. I told my mom about it on the phone that day, only to have her tell me that she just made that very dish. With the time difference, I was literally tasting the dish just as my mom was finished making it.

Time and space are such persistent illusions that you can pierce through. If you let yourself. I answer a question before it's even asked and only realize I've done so when the "other" says "how did you know that's what I was going to ask?" The only gap that exists between you and an-"other" is the one you create when you believe that space is real.

There's more and I think I'll make a point to write about them, since I'm not the only one experiencing the malleability of this reality and the magic of what we are...or are not, as the case may be.

Now seems like the right time to let my crazy really hang out all over the place.

in Dreams,
k.

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