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  • Writer's pictureAnna

Sweet Nothings From Nothing

All I can do is hold up a mirror. The rest is obvious—Not mentally, no sir, but intuitively. For the mind you think you have cannot serve you here. Only the heart of Being can recognize the origin of these words, which is from nowhere and yet simultaneously everywhere. You, my love, are this untraceable, undefinable, energy that always is and always will be—life eternal, life immortal, yet seems to be appearing as a play of life transient, life mortal. ⁣




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