Silently Yearning for Illness

So we move along into this world, wrapped up in layers, some weighing us down, others lifting us up and in the end, keeping us always in the same place, where we began. It's what this life seems to do, it seems that it is designed to keep us in the same place, to spend our life walking on circular escalators. It's like an invisible and very expansive jail. The illusion is thick and its hard to cut loose because we have reinforced this circular motion for so many lifetimes. We want to escape, break free but the momentum is too strong. Pause. Even in the pause there is movement. We pause to breathe but the peace is short lived.

The mind circles within because we have embodied the cycle of the collective. We sit, we spin. We stand, we spin. We walk and we spin. Waiting for illness. Because it is severe illness that is the blessing that we secretly wait for, it is the only excuse accepted by others and our minds. Illness is the excuse for stillness that we happily embrace on the inside. But not everyone escapes this forced stillness, it becomes permanent and we move from stillness to decay. Inhabitable within our bodies and within this world.

Extremes. We have become a species of extremes. There must be another way. This can't be the design that was intended. I hope that this is just the temporary collective darkness, needed for our evolution into the next vibration and that the light is not too far away. Light at the end of the tunnel. Fuck, I hope so. I pray so. For you, for me and for all beings. Because shit is so dark we can no longer see.

Searching for a light switch.