Voyager

i dont know how i got here.

but im here now,

and it’s quiet.

i don’t remember the noise

i don’t want to.

the music down here is runic.

down here i am unbothered.

except by thoughts.

and love of course.

am i here to tell a story? the story of my human experience? do i even believe i’m human? somehow, the word human feels limiting. even though i believe it’s not… what is it really, to be human? have you heard human music, seen human art, or experienced human emotion? that shits crazy. what are these limitations i feel bound by? social confinements? the inability to be objective? the lack of 5th dimension perception? severely discriminatory senses, hemmed impulses, and egocentric logic?

well well well.

seems to me as though to be human is to be limitless, as well as crucially limited.

is this correct?

who am i asking.

is there a being on this planet that knows the answer? objectively. you know like,

the truth according to …

what’s ….. real ?

the truth according to what is absolutely factual on every planet ,in every dimension, and corner of every universe.

thats what i mean by objective.

so who’s got that.

it’s somewhat disturbing to live in a world full of contradictions, misconceptions and magic.

maybe it isn’t but human reasoning is just deathly limited.

deadly to the peace.

ah, to be a limitless soul bound by severable reasoning.

ah, to be.

maybe to be human is simply to be.

ever though of that?

ok sure, but ever bElieVeD iT?

that’s what I thought.

sweet night, take me in thy gooey womb and suck the noise from out mine head.

i wish to see iridescence with my closed eyes this night. will you paint it for me?