All I can do

All I feel I do is endure. There is no way out of this thing, this experience of awareness. All the pain, and all the pleasure passing by while I watch it. Everything is happening in one space, and I don't even know where or what it is. What I am. The thoughts that come up are the same, I don't choose which ones arise, I only notice some of them as they do. Some are more viral than others, and the whispers of others often wiser.

No wonder this idea of the angel and devil on the shoulder is so widespread. If you focus your attention beyond the loudest chatter, you peek a little deeper into this experience, and it changes something. The lens I'm observing all this through somehow gets clearer, but reveals more to be confused about. More questions than answers. The deeper you delve, the farther away from the comforts of home. This reality I think I live in, this can all change, like it has before, in a second.

Living is an addiction, and it seems everyone wants to be its peddler. It's more comfortable to hold onto the thought that this thing we're in is good. I think letting go is the way. The low whisper I've heard my whole life, but been told that it's wrong. I think it's the wisest noise I can observe. Like a baby born from a polluted womb, craving the thing it never chose to consume. This life is a trick, an addiction peddled by a dealer. Inside each and every one of us, using whatever we are as a tool for reasons beyond our comprehension. Every time you feel like letting go, it gaslights you, makes you crave it.

Maybe that's too simple, maybe the reality is this is a perpetual torture. Everything that can be thought was made for you to think. Every color you can see, can only be seen because it exists. To think that you can escape, to think things are good, only for it to turn bad, it's all apart of the pain. All I really know is, I'm ready to be done with it. But all I can do is endure.

Goodbye Ivory.