My Underwater Phobia.

Under water, where “I” could not breathe while the rest of me felt perfect; I told myself “ça passe ou ça casse”. i wish ke ça s’etait cassé, mais ça a passé. “I” surfaced again. Back into Samsara.

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At the Door.

Knock! Knock!

– Go.Away.

– Don’t you want to see who it is?

– I know it’s just another Illusion.

– So you think that, if you keep on refusing to open, the Illusions will stop coming at your door at some point?

– I don’t know. I don’t care. I ain’t opening that fucking door to anything again.

– What if..it were not an Illusion, what if this time, it were Reality, or Truth, or something awesome like True Love, or the Mission of your life, or Enlightenment?

– Don’t care. I’d tell it to get lost just the same. Because whatever it can be, will always be accompanied by Pain. I don’t want the awesome, it’s bound to come with its partner: its opposite. Reality is right here, right now.

– Why don’t you just open the door and look at the Illusion as it is: as an illusion? Let it come and entertain it like one? It can’t hurt you if you remember it is an Illusion.

– Everytime I let one in, it becomes really hard to make it go afterwards. It’s like this intrusive guest that makes himself at home in your home and doesn’t want to go. And the more time I spend with it, the more I start to believe in him, and forget it’s an Illusion. I get into its game. And when he goes away (he’s bound to go at some point, because he ain’t real, or die right here and leave his rotten envelope behind for me to clean up,) it breaks my heart. I’m not entertaining Illusions in my house anymore.

– But you do know, that.. you’re one of them too, right?

– …

– Well, you are. Maybe you should get out of the house too and go away. Or shoot a bullet into your fucking illusional head.