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[P 27]

by mattrick-patrick

When I feel my hand And the sensations feel My world is real Strange reality, love reality Mother reality This is the source of my fantasies. To be, to this immense sensation Knowledge and time and life’s Uniqueness, displayed in every moment. Daily, this is but one day. The words I have not to say. The world I have not to understand. Moment to moment, stranger by the day. How unique? How unique. This unique! This. Uniqueness, Displayed so believably. But death is the truth, inconceivably. That, is belief through ignorance. We do not die. We do not live. We love, we are nothing. Death in life. Suspended in the air. Subjectively…
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mattrick-patrick
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Written by
mattrick-patrick
Published
Nov 4, 2014
Time
2m
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