Guest guest Posted January 4, 2004 Report Share Posted January 4, 2004 what is that source from which the inky substance of nothing dribbles forth as if a little hole in space when I become quiet 'the potential' softly unfolds it is murky and deep it is the edge of time nothing knows and nothing is ... yet the subtle softness unfolds it is a melting in the vastness as I die into it, more and more it is my name I am done now... can end everything in this... so many layers of dying is like layers of an onion... whithering whithering to the core perhaps always another... and so I die again anything of me that arises I throw into it and die again and this plasma of emptiness melts me so no effort it is done it is the death into the death it is the gone into the gone how could I have known that death is greater than life? Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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