Cosmic scent
Nothing seems real, as if everything is the illusion of the reflection in the mirror whose back is a thick wall, and between them a darkness of nonexistent shadows, and behind them a gloom.
The gloom left by a wall behind which is a darkness of nonexistent shadows, behind them the other face of the mirror, yes that one which reflects nothing.
Or is everything a radiation of the light coming from the illusion of the darkness that stands before the mirror and behind it.
The structure of my eye is like a cosmic mirror, as if the universe wants to see itself through me.
But it collides with the darkness in the retina and I and the universe rebound upon myself, and we see nothing but darkness and what lies behind it of darkness.
Then we are lost in a vicious circle of every meaning, whereas each of us only wanted to find himself.
Does the universe keep meaning if the witness is absent?
I think that the eye of the mind is what gives things their meaning, which in turn creates for the mind its meaning so that everything returns upon itself and to itself from the things, and thus it is.
Thus everything is born of its nonbeing and the interval between them is illusion.
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