The Mortal


The mortal is like a soldier, peasants, kings, queens, name-brand clothing, aviator sunglasses, styled hair. The commoner is layer upon layers of identifications, all of which represent nothing of who or what they are at their core. Dressing and playing the part, like a short film, to fit in. That only if they might be true to their nature, and accept them selves, and might at least be confident in their own nakedness.

The world has many paths, of which all lead to death. and even fear of death is an identity of the mortal.

Applications of limitations, covering one's pure state-of-being.

The mortal is between the extremes of darkness and of light, and between the micro and the macro, between volume and silence, ever living and ever dying all at once.
Such is pulled between high and low emotions, future imaginations and past memories. Fear and hope.

Living according to the beliefs and imaginations of other beings is yet even more applications of obstructing identities, of which all obscure the narrow/middle way of self.

Seeking after Truth does eventually lead to death and many deaths. The immortal, knowing that death is only the beginning, is certain that there is no rush, for all will come through eternity.

The commoner denies the Truth which is right before their eyes, which is reasonable within their mind, which is ever-felt. Words will never enter in to the gates of those who choose to be closed off.
Freedom can not be told, fearlessness can not be mentioned, love can not be detailed. but that one must -be- the qualities of which the mortal fears and they do only fear their own self.

Is there any certain place to be in the world? beside for to be a tree that walks, being one with fire, wind, earth, water and Truth.

Every construct can be compared to the cocoon. That even in death must one break forth and emerge, accepting what they are in essence.


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