Buried Alive

Is your life someone else’s idea?

Here, sitting in the wee hours of a Sunday morning with the quietest ambient music kissing my eardrums, these thoughts come . . .

Someone has installed in my being; a clock, an itinerary, a priority chart, likes and dislikes and some kind of a ‘plan’ for me to follow. Just like every other day up until now.

I certainly didn’t overtly request this aggregation of thoughts. It is as though when we are born our ‘memory’ button was in its default position of ‘On’. Your’s too?

Is it possible to have a choice of whether or not we accumulate all this new information – every moment we are alive?

Can we press the reset button, or pull the plug and wait 30 seconds and plug it back in, and start over?

It seems we have, or had, a ‘self’ – but it is covered up, buried, under this barrage of accumulated data. We live, but are disguised every step of the way like we are in an unforgiving and unconquerable masquerade.

Buried alive! Submerged in the quicksand of thoughts that were given to us, accepted by us, but now imprison us.

We carry on, under the burden of situations and consequences we never asked for – or desired. And sometimes, perhaps as flickers of a dying insight, we are reminded that who we really are is still living deep inside of us.

The concepts mentioned above are what interests me deeply. Instead of humans, most are relegated to being puppets on a foreign stage, peering down a perspective that in no way was designed for them. Acting out parts they had no intention of portraying. Actors, who read and act out their given part, every single day.

Someone says, ‘We only have one life’. That might be O.K. . . .

if that one life was truly ours.

Published by Kumi

Liaison to the Infinite.

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