Loving Myself Blindly

Acquiescence4

Why do I love a person that I cannot see?
Why do I love blindly?
It’s stupid, really.

Maybe it’s because of experience…

I once loved a lady I could see.
And she deceived me.

Now I love a man who I cannot see.
That man is me, aside from my physical body.

The thinking man, the feeling man, the spiritual man.
That is the real me.  I’m not my current limited body.
So I could be blind and still love me.

I love the past me, the present me and the future me.
Especially the future me, the one I intend to be.
He’s already with me.  He is within me.  And he has a…
beautiful, superpowerful, cosmic light-body!

He invites me
He inspires me
He pushes me
He leads me

I can certainly love blindly.
As long as my true lover is me.
And as long as I live eternally.

[Daily Prompt]

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My Shadow

Smoke Man

He’s here.  He means business.  I wish he would speak.  He remains silent.  But his silence speaks louder than words.  How does he do it?

The Shadow Man follows me, watches everything I do.  He’s not a spy.  I think he likes me.  Yes… he loves me.

He seems to be attached to me.  As far as I can tell, he has no choice.  He’s devoted to me.  But he’s not a servant.  He’s more like a companion.  A silent companion.

His presence is felt in the present only.  Warm and enveloping.  Calm, reassuring.  He doesn’t seem to be concerned with my material preoccupations.  He is concerned with my well-being though.  It’s impossible to worry with him around.

He seems to have a knowledge of the world, of the universe.  He’s from another world, another dimension, but he’s well-grounded on earth.  Anchored to me.

I’m obsessed with him.  No, he’s obsessed with me.  Trying to seduce me.  He’s so mysterious, but he’s so close, he never leaves me.  I don’t think he has a life apart from me.

He’s almost boring, but he’s not!  His presence means everything, but what does it mean?  Why am I so obsessed with him?

He fills a gap.  A gap that has existed since as far back as I can remember.  No one could fill this gap.  He’s the missing piece of the puzzle.  The puzzle of life.  He’s the missing piece of me.

Sounds like the man my mother calls Jesus.  Maybe he is Jesus.  But he never told me his name.  In a way he’s just like him.  But he doesn’t seem to have anything to do with Christianity.

He’s mine.  He’s not a member of any church.  He’s like a partner.  A twin.  Probably my twin flame.  Although he appears to be unreal.  I can’t touch him with any of my five senses.  He’s more than physical to me.  People think physicality is the ultimate reality.  I have to disagree.

Invisibility is the ultimate reality.

He watches me as I write this.  He sits not beside me, but through me.  Like an aura, all around me.  His shape merges with mine but it overflows, as if he’s bigger than me, like a shadow.

What does he want?  Nothing.  He seems happy that I recognize him.  Simply.  As though this was his ultimate desire.  But then he stays silent.  I’m the one who needs to talk.  He just listens.  And when I talk and he listens something happens.  He communicates.  How does he do it?

At first he appeared in front of me.  Now that I have accepted him, he comes so close he blends his body into mine.  But at the beginning, he would politely just sit in front of me.

When I first saw him, I understood.  Understood what?  This is what I’m trying to put into words.  I understood everything.  My whole life, in one flash.  The answer.  He was the answer to all my questions.  Questions such as:  Who am I?  Where do I come from?  Where am I going?  Does God exist?  What’s my purpose?

Him.  The answer to all those questions is him.  This shadow man who is more real than any of the visible ones.  He is me.  I come from him.  I’m going to him.  He exists, he’s my god.  He’s my purpose.  He’s my destiny.

It doesn’t even make sense.  I know.  I don’t really understand.  I’m not even sure I can explain.  What bothers me is that this is what I have heard others say about Jesus.  But he’s not Jesus.  Or maybe he is.

Why is he not Jesus?  Because he is me, and I know that I am not Jesus.  But maybe I am.  Maybe everybody is Jesus.  I know some have this perception of Jesus.  But many don’t.  Jesus might be a myth.  This guy who accompanies me is not a myth.

I think each person has one.  Each person is one.  A spirit.  He’s my etheric double.  I’m convinced of that.  Each person has one.  He’s not separate from me.  He’s the ultimate me.

He’s the eventual me, the final me, the last me, the supreme me, the future me, and maybe even the first me, the only real me.

But when I look at myself in the mirror, I’m so not like him.  I’m so artificial compared to him.  How could I think that I am him?  He’s above, I’m below.  He’s in another dimension.  He transcends time.  I function according to time.  We’re not from the same time.  Yet we are.

If I would be like him, I would simply be there.  I would BE.  “Thanks for being there.”  A reassuring presence.  Maybe that’s all I am.  How boring.  Like the cat.  A reassuring calm warm furry presence.  Then why all the rest?

What have we done to our world?  What have THEY done to our world?  It’s so artificial.  Probably because of money.  And control.  Greed, money, control.  Servitude, bondage, slavery.

Slavery is alive and well.  It has never been abolished, just transformed.  Is it easier to break free?  It’s not even possible for me without the Shadow.  He sets me free.  And you can’t be set free if you can’t see it.  The best slave is the one who thinks he’s free.