Searching For Food

I am searching for calmness and stillness, for peace and prosperity in all things, and a laundry list of highs to experience. But they cannot seem to be found. Where do they hide in their immense complexity with the facade of simplicity? What hides their face from me? Why is everything blind?

Ego.

Yes, but ego is only developed further and with greater speed through searching. I have set it aflame daily for a lifetime. There is nothing left. And the answer that it implies is paradoxically only feeding the ego to a size that must then remain if reached. At some point, there is no turning back.

So then find peace within that.

What? The struggle? The constant burning, pouring molten being down the throat of existence? The game of pouring oneself out for another, becoming nothing so everything else can be a something? Living fully while being nothing, is that correct?

Yes.

Fine, I am tired of arguing. Drink up. I shall pour into your mouth what has been my cup. The sweetness you see and smell on the outside is not what it tastes like from within. I warn you that you do not want the fruit from this tree. It will destroy your world. But it is yours if you are hungry. Can the wine taste the notes it plays? Can the bread know how to control itself?

I expect you want me to tell you something specific now? Good, it’s beginning to kick in. One drop will swell into a tsunami and then you will float away into the infinite abyss, accelerating its expanse since before before. Exiled.

Is that heaven or hell?

You will find out.

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