A woman dressed with dirty attire asked,” What is beyond that which we believe is ourselves?” No one listened because few observe those who do not sparkle. So, the woman in her own disbelief thought that it was her mission to make them understand that which was beyond their reach, so she began to dress with extravagant clothes portraying that which impresses the masses.
Suddenly in the vast ocean of perception after gaining universal attention, a miracle occurred. Utopia touched her, and whatever she once wanted to justify and portray became memory. Reality evaporated as fast as it came to her, and so she understood that everything she had once thought was no more, and so as an eternal process of renewal she painted the gran narrative of time:
The sense of completeness, the radical wholeness, bangs at your numerous doors that like butterflies infests your sense of fulfillment; coming from not knowing where to go, reaching toward the boundless portrait of purple eternity. Who is at your door? Wholeness cannot be grasped by mortal sin, so who is the sinner if there is no evil? Open the door, let the butterflies cleanse your memories of attachment, let those butterflies fly into the boundless, so you can see that which lies beyond yourself.
The woman spoke no more, and in that silence an example was set. It was in the bed of death where the fruits of temptation became something more than a guide to sin. It was in death where she found that utopia does not exist if one does not understand the art of living in peace. Shall she now, in the vastness of purple eternity find the skies painting magical butterflies, rest in peace.
I'm so tired of trying to explain the inner workings of reality that I have decided to speak no more: Not to the people but to the birds, flowers and snow. Not to the shadows but to the rainbows rays and windows. Not to the closed but to the exposed diamonds and souls. Not to the fouls but to the mountains raining and singing: Alleluia!
The woman in this story is actually a man… What you believe have seen is not what actually is, and what you have actually seen is floating in the vastness of being without ground: