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That that is.
That that is, is that is not. That that is not cannot be that that is, for that that isn’t is, and that that is, is not. One cannot see that that is. For that that is, is not.
One who sees is normal.
One that interprets what is being portrayed to be visualized, is abnormal.
For the one that interprets, acknowledges that what the normal one sees, is nothing. And lives AS nothing.
But it is seen by nothing that he is living. But what nothing sees does not exist. Or does it?
Just fall into the pieces meant for you, you normal one. That’s not what I need. For I am the one that creates the puzzle I piece together.
Then the normal one stops, and turns. “Could I be the one that is in turn Abnormal? Who says what is and is not normal?”
An answer comes from a non existent place. “For you make what is normal for yourself. For what is normal, is you. Therefore normal is yourself.
And being abnormal, is being something who you are not. Not as in being fake, but simply not knowing who you even are is what makes your normal. Don’t be lost. Don’t listen to the lies of the people around you. Take a plunge into yourself, and figure out who you are.
There is One who can divide. As a matter of fact, more than just one. Many souls, split from their being and venture off into what those who are considered normal may never fathom. Separate your spirit from your mind. And realize the actual purpose of yourself. Looking at yourself from above gives you a third party, outsiders point of view. And there in your own existence you can sort your problems, and file your very own mind. Almost as a defragmentation. You “Reset” Yourself, and make new, and become reborn..
People say “Look into the mirror” You can take the literal meaning , if you’d like, and go look at your eyes, mouth and hair. Or you can take it for a far deeper meaning, and actually look at yourself from the outside in.
A man once said, “I take the road less traveled by” But why take a road that has still already been taken. Who said that within the forest between the paths, there is open land meant for your own “road”. Pull yourself from the painting, my normal one, and pick up the brush. Not for me, or anyone else, but for yourself. Become one with who you are, and become an individual. Not a citizen.
Take a look at life. Or whatever you believe it to be. Are you living, or are you playing the game?
Ha, Call me insane. Say that I’m psychotic. Whatever, but then again, Anyone who is considered abnormal is “Wrong in the head” I say No. We SEE. We LIVE. We Paint, and sculpt. We dig the pieces from the sand that is inside us. So, No. I’m not insane, or corrupted. My mind is completely organized. And One of the most fluent and well oiled piece of machinery ever not invented. To an untrained eye, It doesn’t even exist. So, go ahead, and keep the bandana over your eyes. Walk that plank, and engulf yourself in the sea of nothingness that you’ll end up in.
I laugh at you. I stand on my own cloud, and look down upon you as if “God” would, and simply shake my head, for you are the troubled one. I cannot help you. Live as you do, for it the only way you know how with your feeble mind. It entertains me to see a bunch of soul less faces as if is I was as a play.
I see you, as colourless, and you stay that way. I throw paint on you, and it fades. Your simple smile remains, and the tear stays in the corner of my eye. But We move amongst one another AS one. Because whether you are blind or not, we all are still connected. You refuse to accept the face, but you know that if you changed lives, and knew nobody, you would eventually fall and burn as all the rest. Good riddance, I say. As I could care less, for I tried to pry your third eye open..
Now, all is dark. That that once was is now not, that that once was not, now is.