I stopped for a moment. The whole world stopped. And I realised that I am always travelling. This whole life is a journey into the mind. And out of the mind we create the world that lies in front of us. The world we always see, it is nothing more than what we think we see. It is no more real that a unicorn. Deep inside there a vision, a construct that directs the path of what we see. What we think we see. But it is all a construct.
The truth lies in the broken ridges in between our thoughts. The imperceptible real. I lie in those ridges. Planning from moment to moment. But it is the ‘from’ that lies in between the moment that is real. As we struggle to realize the meaning of what lies between the moments, that is the truth. My life is no more real than what I think I see, what I plan to see.
When I am broken, out pops the truth. The things you automatically think matter, never really do. Instead, there is something so deep you can only touch it, never express it. I have always been concerned with where I would travel, not seeing that getting there is life.
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