We confine ourselves to the tedium of self acknowledgement and deny our intuition to explore the nature of our being. In the crevasses of time unknown, the fine distribution of elements take their journey through the passages of unrealized places, and maintains the vibration of possibility .
It makes itself known with the illusion of making it real. We are entwined in the matrix of perpetuated self belief. The idea that everything we experience is a tangible substance is the only way we can justify existence, and therefore maintains itself for the purpose of belief.
Simplicity..., a glimpse of the fine point of enlightenment. Simplicity itself, is the higher planes of existence. The fact that we are always thinking about the idea of the idea, will always hold us to the slavery of a single plain existence.