About space and time

I dreamt.

I dreamt that I open my eyes and everything is here. Like a miracle.

The morning in my bedroom: a plain white ceiling, the shadow of a window grille on that plain white ceiling, an unlit lamp on the wall, the unhung painting of a tropical beach beside the wall, a wooden wardrobe, an empty reclining chair.

I see everything; they are all here, simultaneously.

Nothing moves. As if – time does not exist. There’s only the present. The gift. Of. Suspended white clouds in a boundless blue. Shadow of a window grille frozen on the ceiling. Unmoving wave over the painted beach. Closed wardrobe doors. Soundless air, empty smell.

Everything’s still and silent.

For an instant. Forever.

My body is resting on the bed. In the room. And the eternity and infinity of the room contains me; and the eternity and infinity of my mind contains the room which contains me.

Mind in the room. Room in the mind. A mutual swallowing. Like the yin-yang of a taichi diagram. Like the Ouroboros serpent eating its tail. I am inside this fractal. Conscious, aware, alone. Alone. Alone

No. I am everything and everything is me. I exist nowhere. I exist everywhere. I am inside the fractal. I am the fractal.

I am –

I am.

I am dreaming.

I am awakened.


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