Painted Rainbows...

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We are the conceptual ideas of ourselves.....
All the this and that.....
The fluctuations of the mind.....
It's the only place we exist.....
You and I....
The slightest movement....
And here we are.....
All made up....
Mental fabrications....
And a you and me and all separate things....
How beautiful....
This....
This the very in breath and out breath.....
This....
Life....
Painted rainbows.....

Not one...
Not two.....
Not everything....
Not nothing.....
Empty of even emptiness.....

Many substitue conceptual separation....
With a concept of oneness.....
Like a quantum soup.....

But with them in it....

Like being in heaven.....
But with a little bit of Rita on the side....
Lol....

There's really no such thing as a "We" either....
In the no thinginess...
Though it feels like it....

We only exist in the separation....
As a you and me...a we ...an us....
A constantly emerging and simultaneous self erasing thought stream....

Kissing each other....
Like this...

The eye of the storm.....
The sublime quiescence...
Empty of even emptiness....
And the swirling mnemonic debris....

Without which there is no such thing as a mind.....

Like a still wind.....
There is no such thing.....

And no separate things....

There's not even nothing there.....

Tears...