Just images pulling away.
The mind is not The mind,
No matter what the archons say.
Only light can hold the light
In the heart space.
If the only reality is your own,
Why should you care that there are others?
The hologram thinks what you're thinking
And delivers what thought created,
Like "Jimi Hendrix is
Morgan Freeman"
And "JFK is not
Even dead"
And it's all to see how deep you will go
Inside the as-above, so-below honeycomb
Of your spacious, endless globe of a head.
The nothingness you fear
Is a needing for things to be real,
As if the continual spring
Of fanciful imagination
Taught you nothing
About what is.
