quirkyreally870306032a-pevxr

Because you built it,
others built it too.

A tapestry of water,
hardened by repetition—
thoughts, neither good nor bad,
just lived,
again and again
until they became fixed.

A wall.

Permanent, it seemed.
Impermeable.
Impenetrable.

Others stopped there.

But you didn’t.

You found a way through—
not by suppressing it,
not by pretending it wasn’t there,

but by stepping into it.

By experiencing the very thing
you wanted to escape,
and then choosing—deliberately—
to pull your attention back.

To reclaim it
from habit,
from ignorance,
from everything that told you
this was all you were.

And in that return,

you remembered.

What you are
is not the wall.
Not the pattern.
Not the repetition.

You are what sees it.

What moves through it.

What was always there
before it hardened.

Call it what you want—

but it does not change.

You were never separate from it.

You were never anything less.

God.

Not as something distant,
not as something above you,

but as the very thing
you kept trying to escape.