At times, I seek dissociation
to associate with myself.

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Entranced by the music,
And shrouded in a sort of
Deathly sense of calmness
I sat, Glancing away
Into the distance, dissociated
From the surroundings ...

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May be this is the way
I dissociate from my memories
The ones I don't want to keep
Convert to poetry, that I never remember

I do really care that they stay
In the shrine of words
At some distance, a click away
I might like to visit someday.

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A separate consciousness,
Judging you from outside you,
Watching your every move,
And wondering ‘Is that you?’

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Dissociate from the mind,
and feel the magic of true being !!

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Images supplanted in my head, levitating out of bed. Upon the rooftop I explore dreams, imagining a life where I’m out of reach. Stargazing, escaping, harsh reality, brief moments of freedom, never looking down, until the harrowing pain of a monsters penetration forces me back to the ground.

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I'm slowly but openly dissociating
from the mundane world around me.
I'm still gonna keep it real with my people
especially those who sought and found me.
I'm hoping I'm over the temporal world
and I'm wishing it's time to transition -
from overly focusing on the physical
into my true spiritual condition.
I don't fully know what's going to follow
but I feel like this next step is inevitable.
Either I choose to go through it now
or later when the situation is regrettable.
I don't intend to become a full-fledged hermit
nor do I think that's required.
It's just that I've experienced this lower world
and, my God, I'm just so tired.
Hopefully I will cross over successfully,
and if I do may I be able to report it -
so that all who've heard The Call may also follow
and maybe one day those who thus far have ignored it.

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The ability to see things dispassionately is a gift because in this way you can get better insights.

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“The harder and more consistently you are struck by the hammer of life, the younger you will be dissociated from the vast majority's ways of living and thinking.”

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UNFORGIVING

Shame, guilt, poison,
Circulating in a blob of glasent ink,
stinging arosion in my eyes, like inhaling a room drenched in ammonia.
That taste.
Glass falls! CRASH!
I'm awakened quickly, I collect myself and look to floor to see nothings there.

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