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inside ourselves

what makes up a person is a vast and complex system of images, events, emotions.. much like a multi-dimensional super-computer with memory webs stretched to infinities, each thread weaving in and out of past, present, future; what is, was, will be and even could have been and could be

admist it all stands the super-composer which is I, and only I am the inspiration-child of that which Is -the super-composer of all of this that we comprehend

to live is to refine our budding senses that will be as our hands, eyes, and ears are, and what people call the heart which bring in that data called emotions, in the next stage of our existence as a fetus in the womb buds its tools for life outside the womb. And as the umilical cord is abandoned after development in the womb is completed, so do some of our senses and support systems.

description still understates the experienced and the more we try to map out our expanding inner world the more we come to a dead end in our minds for lack of an explanation as to what's going on. I have a thoery that this is why so many people are feeling disillusionment within this world...

as we locate ourselves in the great mass of intertwining threads of inspiration and experience we may feel that there is a disintegration of residual "character decoration" (for lack of a better term)- so that what seems to be happening is that our ground is dropping away from our feet, the walls we have built around us crumble away, layers are seemingly peeled off of our eyeballs, the person we believed ourselves to be is a mere skin which falls away leaving us feeling stripped and vulnerable.

part of the joy in locating ourselves and surrendering the residual "skin" is that we can start to find or understand our own distinct joys and abilities.. in a sense, where our own inspiration stems from, and resonate with it. That doesn't mean that one has to be entirely original from everyone else- because it's the same source of inspiration we all glean from, everyone just experiences it in different ways at different times.
brianna, 2000