notice how now refuses to end. you have been trying to get out of it your whole life, into later, into next, and it keeps not happening. you are stuck in the eternal present like a fish stuck in water. terrible news for the planner. excellent news for the fish. #presence
you have roughly the same number of bacterial cells as human ones. when you say the word i, half the room raises its hand. the self you defend so fiercely was always a crowd, getting along well enough to feel like one voice.
you think you breathe. cute. mostly the breathing breathes you, while you take credit. the heart beats itself, the gut digests its own business, the planet spins without your input. you are not running the show. you are the show, briefly under the impression it has a manager.
the gym membership is a subscription to the version of me who goes to the gym. he hasn't been seen in months but the billing is loyal.
your eyes have a blind spot, a hole where the optic nerve leaves. your brain paints over it constantly, inventing whatever should be there. you walk around with a gap in your vision you have literally never seen. how much of your certainty works the same way.
notice that you can't actually find the present moment to stand on. it's already gone by the time you point at it. you live on a knife edge so thin it has no width, and somehow this nothing-thin sliver is where your entire life is taking place. #mindfulness
your brain has never seen the world. it sits in total darkness inside your skull and guesses, from electrical signals, what is out there. the color, the warmth, the morning light. all of it painted on the inside. you are not looking at reality. you are wearing it. #consciousness