Illusory Realities

Why do I seem to find you every time I dive into the depths of my own existence? What do you do there? Why you?

The cycles of evolution. Unfinished stories of inexistent paths. What is it all about?

The invisible ties, the mysterious connections, the unknown, dreamed, or unrealized.

The illusion of something that cannot be seen but is deeply felt. Is what my heart seems to know wiser than what my eyes can see? Is the frequency of silence truer than the lies we tell ourselves? Does my body know better than what my mind would like to believe?

Knowing but not experiencing. Experiencing but not being certain of what part of it is actually true. The illusion of presence. The mirage of love.

Being here and now. Close and yet so far from each other at the same time. A solo dream or a shared delusion?

Feeling but not believing. Seeing but not accepting. Knowing but not forgiving.

What is love? Such a silly question, isn't it?

How can you describe something like that? How can you even pretend to be able to name what that is? How can you know something that has no end and no beginning? Sometimes it moves and transforms with each of your breaths and every single step.

How can you feel love? How do you know what you feel is love? If myself is whole, the only love there is is self-love. And yet, the more I love myself, the more I seem to feel your presence there.

Why?

I have let go. Because I don't like dead ends. I don't want stories with no awareness. I am not into the confusion of our own unprocessed past.

And yet, each time I wake up from my deepest dreams in this weird reality, I somehow see your face. I feel your hands. And I smell your invisible presence in the infinite space.

You are like the soft wind not knowing where you have blown your dreams away. Who has caught them? Who keeps them safe, where, and why?

You are just a dream.

And you are also not my dream.

Even if you somehow found a way to show up there from time to time, seemingly as confused as lost in a place you have no intention or desire to be.

You cannot dream in a dream. This is a power only reality has. And also like one very wise woman said, a dream you dream by yourself is just that, a dream. A dream we dream together is a reality we concretize.

I don't do solo dreams anymore.

Even if sometimes their smell is sweeter and their spring song is more captivating. I don't do it anymore because it's not real. I don't enjoy the unreal. My body cannot experience the illusion to the extent to which I want to immerse myself in reality.

I cannot please myself with things I can only dream about.

Imaginary love in the invisible world. Parallel realities of unfinished lives. Stolen dreams of rejected desires.

Time-space distortions to find clarity of the unreal. To touch the unmanifested. To reclaim the uncreated.

Inexistent approval of meaningless validation of something that you might never truly know.

A dream or the dreamed reality. A silly illusion or deep self-transcendence. Foolish craziness or the actual Truth.

The cycles. The movement. And yet, the rebirth. Again and again.

That brings back what has not been digested before. With old symbols and familiar faces. But in a new reality, where nothing is the same. New context. New environment. New rules and maybe even new faces.

New space.

Where we feel more connected and a bit more lonely at the same time. So clearer and transparent, yet a bit more confusing still.

More present and yet wanting to run.

Run where?

To my heart. To myself. To the dream I want to see, hear, and touch. To the reality I know I don't actually need to run to find.

What is mine is already around. What is ready is already here. What is missing probably doesn't yet belong in the now. And that's okay.

Because honoring the mystery of the unknown allows us to bow our heads more sincerely to what we truly desire and want.

To the dreams we distribute like candies to others but forget to realize for ourselves.

To the life we are just scared to proclaim for ourselves. To become what we have always been. To be real and true as is.

To be seen and felt in the soul and heart of other beings. For the depth of our presence. For the life we want to keep dreaming but somehow still too afraid to manifest.