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A poem: "The Illusion Of individuality"


I thought, "Thank God that I am not a mouse spinning a running wheel in a cage!"
But then i saw my cage and the running wheel that i was spinning.

I thought, "Thank God that I live in an orderly and peaceful village!"
But then i saw the violence and chaos of the jungle, and that there was no village.

I thought, "Thank God that I am not an insect, easily smashed by a thumb!"
But then i saw the enormous thumb, and was terrified.

I thought, "Thank God that I am a male with a powerful body, a laborer and carpenter!"
But then i broke my neck, became paralyzed, and lost all of my muscles.

I thought, "Thank God that I am young and handsome and will live forever!"
But then i became old and saw the momentary flicker of my life in the expanse of time.

I thought, "Thank God that my wife loves me, as I love her, that she is no whore!"
But then she was gone, and i saw that all women are whores.

I thought, "Thank God that I, and all that I see, are real, and that God is an illusion!"
But then i saw that i, and all that i see, are illusion, and that only God is real.

Savoring my accumulated wisdom, I thought, "Thank God that I am no longer blind!"
But then i saw that i merely cannot see that i am still blind.