truth is one and many

An old man at the end of his life

He is broken and disappointed

With great loneliness and emptiness

Delirious and fantasizing

Losing clarity

He did not fulfill himself

And the pain only intensifies

The illusion of a woman

Whom he always wanted

And in his life he struggled

But did not succeed in what he desired

To realize in his world

He felt everything within himself

But only the bitter sadness

Was with him

And it was his only friend

That remained beside him

As he approached his grave

Which was in his heart

From the day he was born

And he lies in an empty bed

But how is that possible, if he is in it?

Because he does not feel himself

In that moment

And it is a shame

Because he always has himself

Even when he is alone

When among many one can flourish

Alone one must also know how to be happy

But where is his self? In the heart? In the mind?

What is the difference between the heart and the mind?

The mind thinks, the heart feels

And both of them build the person

Emotion and thought come together

Influence one another

And create consciousness

That moves between sensation and definition

Between image and energy

And if a person is within himself

Can he truly know another?

Or do you always experience yourself

Through the senses one can experience reality

But it is always translated into an inner experience

That is built from yourself

And you are built from memories

Of what you have already experienced

To inwardly go out

To outwardly go in

A willing reality, a real will

True peace, peaceful truth

Is it possible to find it?

It feels to me as a person

That one needs to create, communicate, and experience a lot

Before true peace arrives

You need to conquer your existence

Through creation

You need to build yourself

Through expression

You need to experience the other

The inanimate and the living

That exist together

In endless forms

The living is made from the inanimate

Consumes it and thus builds itself

Because the inanimate contains energy

That the living consumes and converts into power

Through which it grows

And maybe all this is God

And maybe not

It cannot be known

And it does not need to be

With that same careful, stable caution and care

With which you would lift a baby

So hold your heart

For in your heart there is a baby

Which is you

After time has passed

And it has reached the present

Which you experience

With many additional layers

That your growth has added

Onto yourself

And you will remember yourself in combination with others

Who exist within you

Every other shows you

Who you are

In relation to them

Together with them

And alone

When loneliness is contained

By moments of connection

There you are

All of you

Within yourself

And outside within people

Who, like you, carry

You as an other

With whom they connected

And to be who you are

Is something precious

Because there is no one else like you

And the world would be hollow and alienated for you

If you were not yourself within it

And with those you are with

Because you would be living a lie

Of who you are outside

Versus your inside

And a lie needs maintenance

And that requires a lot of unnecessary effort

Because a lie is something

That does not allow you to breathe

The essence

In circular becoming

That feels infinite

And the truth is outside and inside

And these two are parts

That should be connected

In order to be awake and present

And to express and to connect

To forget what is commonplace

Sometimes causes losing what is important

The things we live with every day

To see in them their beauty

From the small to the large 

That they contain

Not to ignore and not to neglect

The everyday things

There are things that can be let go

And they are patterns we have already grown out of

That helped us in the past

But now no longer help us

And there are things worth preserving

The things we learned from everything we went through

In order to continue developing

To be a blooming tree

With strong roots

Ones the earth gives strength to

And a flexible trunk

That the wind will not break

But will carry the flowers

And scatter them around

In the spring of life

Which is the present

What we do not need to remember

And what we are always in

And it is hard to say

How much of it we truly experience

When there is so much we carry

From the past within us

But in every moment that we breathe

We are here

Now

Alive

Searching freedom

torn hope

Complete peace

Constant coping

Bleeding imagination

Constructive failure

Abyssal becoming

The high is below

The low is above

The light forgotten

The darkness safe

The truth shines

Into us from outside

The illusion projects

From within us into our consciousness

Our dreams, aspirations, and memories

And within them we exist

And with them we live

A combination of invention and reality

That has been within us since childhood

Builds us

Into a being

A crimson scaffold that crosses the seam

Between reality and imagination

Longs for false joy

There is only painful excitement

A sign of maturity is complexity in simplicity

Truth is one and many

And exists between two extremes

That move in circles

Sights and colors

Noises and sounds

There are no winners when fighting

There is no threat when coming close

There is mental waste everywhere

There is much from which to taste

And maybe all of this is a dream

And one must always breathe

And pulsate

If not, death comes

And with it there is no more hope

To experience and to express

To connect

To become

With yourself or with another

The universe exists

The world ignores

The darkness is blind

The light is cold

It is a shame there isn't more time

To create yourself

To be with people

Contained in brotherhood

Full of love

Empty of effort

Strong

Sweet

Beautiful

Good

Familiar

Illuminated

Honest

Why is humanity so discarded

That it has become a disease?