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Nothingness of nothingness

I Sat in my comfortable chair the lights were off. Headphones on I pressed play, and comforting sounds start to play. It's time not to meditate to sooth my injured soul, from long hours of stress relative work, but to concentrate on the real nothingness of nothingness. Deep breaths in and slow breaths out. Think beyond your so called reality, get behind that facade of illusion and find what's really there. So I did, time melted away and I fell behind the wall of a self developed life, a packaged reality, everything seen touched, smelled and made real by my mind. A mind set with one task that of survival. Everything I have owned or envisaged a montage for me to survive. But behind the screen lays a purpose not of our doing, a source not of our knowing. It holds us in its reality a place of solid atoms it feeds off of our need for survival our endless quest to know why we are here. It holds us in its invisible womb feeding from our nutrients. Awake I stare at the ceiling, walls and floor somehow our survival sows the seeds of nothingness.

Nov. 29, 2021, 10:49 a.m. 0 Report Embed Follow story
The End

Meet the author

David Robinson Been writing a few years but taking more seriously now

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