Crumbling walls

I tiptoe on the edge of infinity, split down the middle by all that is and all there ever was, and I can’t see.  This is really starting to bother me               there are many ways out of this, choosing one is the problem.  Help would be appreciated.  I am dusted with all you are.  I no longer attempt to reach you or see what you are.  This line that was once all I could see has all but disappeared and now I am left with nothing.  My box has once again grown smaller.  I am on an exploration, at least that’s what I think.  I am unable to move, there is just this thing;you, the only one I can communicate with.  You are dust flying around or floating around somewhere in a slow circle of faint light and I’m not sure if it’s even in reality, whatever that means.  Maybe you are just torturing me, punishing me for some wrong I don’t remember committing.  Is there something growing here.  It is me.  The walls that have enclosed me for god knows how long, have disappeared.  I still cannot see a thing but I can no longer feel the walls.  If I am inside everything, would I have the power to see?  Possibly my eyes have been tricked, entering the heart of the eternal they close, overstimulated, searching for focus, reaching for the comfort of darkness.   You deliver thoughts into my brain, you have been so generous, but really now, I would just rather leave.  I have no thoughts of the past or what I once was.  It is all blank inside here, but I am being overcome with thoughts of death, flooding my surroundings and this singular idea, like a statue crowding every thought I have.  I know the eternal being you are, maybe star dust swimming in the air I breathe and just when – I just want to be on top of the mountain, looking down at everything.  Maybe it is ideas that are killing me, all of them tearing at me from every angle.  If I could scream I would, if I could do anything I would but either my hands are tied or they don’t exist.  I am trapped in the infinite question.  I am stuck by something with a firm, concrete belief that it is unmovable, permanent, it is the exact idea it has of itself.  This is a dangerous situation to be stuck in.  You don’t give up.  I see us on top of the hill, the pulsating, dripping light of all you are, dancing in the shadows of the moon.  Sometimes I search for the words of you…they always disappear like your shadow.  I trapped you in a jar once.  You laid by my side as I slept, lighting the path of my dreams but you can never answer the question of how we ended up here?  Why you still follow?  Why I can never be I?  It seems such a comfort to most, this idea they have of themselves, even this thing I’m trapped in, seems so comfortable with exactly what it is.  Why can I never rest?  My mind never has rest.  The walls come back, lit by the fire of my dreams as I enter the mind which I believe I have either been sent to destroy, or to understand.  The mind is a concrete pillar of blackness as I touch it I immediately transform into what it is and now there is no escape.   I see everything for exactly what it appears to me, exactly according to every experience I ever had and there is no escape.  Reaching beyond this, I discover the key to everything


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