quirkyreally870306032a-pevxr

When you speak of another, you speak of me—you speak of “I.” Where this “I” comes from, I do not know. I do not see it, yet I know it by the way it feels, by the way it sees.

It sees everything like a crossing of parallels, diving into existence and guiding you home. It shifts direction, reshapes itself, even as it reshapes you.

Every thought, every feeling, is empowered by this destination with no land and no authority—not without you, not without me—as we struggle over its seeming inequities that are not unequal, not separate at all. It is only the mind unfolding in its own nature.