To be able to see everything once is a dream of mine. It‘s not about places. Nor is it about being carefree and free. It‘s not about me and not about you.
If I had seen everything, then it would be different. No conflict. No need, but getting along with each other. We would also know where we come from.
But- nobody really manages to understand you. Not even oneself. I cannot be you and you cannot be me. That‘s just how it is. Working on it doesn‘t get one any further than to the limits of one‘s own mind. Trapped in one‘s own head, but able to think into infinity, is fun and liberating. So, thoughts are not what drives the world? Maybe they are, I don‘t know.What is certain is that there are limits. A strange tension between me and my dream, actually. You know it will never happen, yet somehow you get closer and closer. Still, I must run. Away from time and oblivion. Understanding you does not stop the clock or my stupidity in remembering things. But showing others empathy and trust gets us so far, not having to look further: for what I actually mean. Seeing.
And seeing is not limited to the eyes. Not even to the body. But centered on the soul and everything that is attached to it. It may be that I forget who I am and want to be, just because I am busy seeing. The dream captivates me. In these thoughts, probably also reflects a wholeness. It is applicable to everyone and everything. I believe. But beyond that, it goes on again. Infinite, so to speak. Wholeness also means being able to see everything for a moment – but that moment then cannot be called eternity and deceive us into being transient. Transience creates value. Do I lose the value of my thoughts then by seeing everything? I hope not, because what drives me are not thoughts and feelings, but seeing myself in the role to think and to feel. It may be that I forget who I am and want to be just because I am busy seeing people. Seeing rules. Seeing feelings and seeing meaning.
Meaning is often music to me. I always imagine how one can assert things without sounding odd. Since no one can see, we also do not understand what exactly the matter means. However, we can all empathetically engage with our own horizon into the thoughts of another. Once there, we are then trapped as extras in a bubble. A dim, non-transparent bubble. Only my mimicry, my statements, and my mood penetrate the outside. The inside of the bubble is us. We are surrounded by a filter. Another boundary. And no matter how hard we try to leave the bubble, we remain in place. It only raises more questions. Why this is and how it can be that such a great coincidence puts me in this situation. Surely, there must be a beginning of something new somewhere.
I dream of being able to look beyond mountains, yet when I think about it, my own horizon is a mountain.