Mud-ness.

Maybe, beyond a point, you will realize you are living in madness.

Maybe, beyond a point, you will realize that everything that you had been holding on for so long, everything that you had even been celebrating- your identity, your this, your that- everything was madness. It was not growing you. You were growing it for your own self.

Maybe, beyond a point, you will realize that you were fragmented and that you were fragmenting others because within you, you know you are small, insignificant, even worthless in the madness of this world.

Maybe, beyond a point, you will realize that all that you had thought of as yourself was not you but a projection of you. Because, otherwise how can you enhance yourself through this or that.

Maybe, beyond a point, you will realize that you are the world’s madness carrying on as in your hair, in your eyes, in your hips, in your feet, in your lips, in your fingertips.

Maybe, beyond a point, you will realize that you are mud, a few inches more than someone, a few inches less than someone else.

Maybe, beyond a point, you will realize that you are the cosmos, the universe unfolding and rebirthing.

Maybe, beyond a point, you will realize all this.

Maybe, beyond a point, you will not.

Either way, madness remains madness.

Either way, mud-ness remains mud-ness.

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