NO-ONE IS AWAKE OR ASLEEP

The illusory self is overlayed and over flavored With conditional patterns Patterns for safety, for attention and apparent knowing All...

You may say I'm a dreamer But I'm not the only one John Lennon's wise word's to his classic song, imagine Lennon singing with love,...

Every apparent me is Pinocchio Proving to itself and apparent others that it's real, that it has a life This can appear to show as being...

Spirituality can perhaps, rebuild, strengthen, make the illusory self More confident, calm and at peace with itself (apparently) But...

When Bruce Lee died, where did he go? Where did John Lennon go, when he died? What about Marilyn Monroe? They never went anywhere Because...

All guru's, spiritual teachers, non dual speakers, anyone with an enlightenment certificate, Badge, diploma, all that, is just this, all...

Nina someone's, I wish I knew how it would feel to be free Is one of the most iconic songs of the 20th century A song that can haunt...

When the self drops away (apparently) Nostalgia appears as empty as a glass

Did the holocaust (ww2) really happen? WW2, like everything else, can arise in the play Anything taken seriously, is what's just arising...

Followers of Nisargadatta, would imitate their teacher By following his habit, by endlessly smoking roll ups Because Nisargadatta, was...

there's no moving forwards or backwards There's no movement at all The illusory self, trying to make a life for itself Becoming...

Liberation is a part of the play There is no liberation Who would be liberated What would liberation look like What would liberation feel...

There's no such thing as freedom And there's no need for freedom either

You don't exist

Shakespeare Lennon Hitler Ghandi Malcolm x Bruce lee Charlie Chaplin Napoleon Mother Teresa Beethoven Einstein Martin Luther King Marilyn...

The illusory character, play's the fools game, of being self aware A practice (usually known as meditation) for becoming more silent,...

This can appear, to be more like death Then it can appear, to be more like life This is a bit like, a relapse of total death, completely...

When there's no one here There's nothing you can know There are no glimpses or awakenings There's no one, who has free will or choice...

No self can disappear and no self can come back

Centuries of funerals Thousands of cemeteries Billions of gravestones And yet, nobody died