Stuff you don´t see

To be able to see everything, just once, is a dream of mine. It’s not about places. Nor about being fulfilled without a care in the world. It’s not about you, and it’s not about me.

If I had seen everything, things would be different. No conflict, no suffering, just getting along with one another. We would also know where we come from.

The thing is, no one can ever truly understand you. And you can’t truly understand yourself, either. I can’t be you, and you can’t be me. That’s just how it is. Trying to work on that doesn’t take us any further than the limits of our own understanding.

Trapped inside our own minds. Yet being able to think, all the way into infinity, is fun and liberating.

So thoughts aren’t what drive the world? Maybe they are, after all. I don’t know.

What I do know is that there are limits. There’s a strange tension between me and my dream. You know it will never happen, yet somehow, you keep getting closer to it.

Still, I have to keep running. Away from time and forgetting. Understanding you won’t stop the clock or cure my own stupidity when it comes to remembering things.

But showing others empathy and trust can bring us to a point where we no longer need to keep searching for what I’m actually talking about. Seeing.

And seeing isn’t limited to the eyes. Not even to my body. At its core, it’s about a soul and everything connected to it. Wild.

Even in my own world, I remain unseen and forgotten. I might forget who I am and who I want to be simply because I’m so busy trying to see.

I might forget who I am and who I want to be simply because I’m so busy trying to see.

I might forget who I am and who I want to be simply because I’m so busy trying to see.

The dream holds me captive.

These thoughts probably reflect a kind of wholeness, too. They can be applied to anything and everything. I think. But even beyond that, there’s always more. Infinity, after all.

Wholeness also means being able to see everything for a single moment. But that moment can come to be called eternity, deceiving us into believing we are not transient.

At the same time, impermanence gives things value. If I lose sight of the value of my thoughts, will I lose it all by trying to see everything? I hope not, because what drives me isn’t my thoughts or feelings, but the ability to see myself in the role of thinking, feeling, and seeing.

I might forget who I am and who I want to be simply because I’m busy trying to see people. To see rules. To see feelings. To see meaning.

For me, meaning often lies in music.

I’m always wondering how you can make claims about things without sounding strange. Since no one can truly see, does anyone really understand what something means?

And yet, with the limited understanding each of us possesses, we can connect with another person’s thoughts, finding our way into their minds. Once we arrive inside someone else’s thoughts, we become extras, trapped in a bubble. A murky, opaque bubble. Only my facial expressions, my words, and my mood make their way to the outside. The inside of the bubble is who we are. In this world, we represent ourselves through filters alone.

Only without filters can we see what lies behind the façade. Behind facial expressions. Behind the world.

And no matter how hard we try to escape this bubble, we remain exactly where we are. There are only more questions. Why is it this way? How can it be that such an enormous coincidence has placed me in this situation?

Surely, somewhere, there must be a beginning to something new.

I dream of being able to see beyond mountains. Because when I stop and think about it, my own horizon is exactly such a mountain range.