surely, this world is strange to me, as I am strange to it.

I must be from somewhere else, and I am only a guest here to participate as what I am truly not.

I find myself in states of such marvel and wonder. I catch myself pondering so many abstract thoughts, in these moments I feel undoubtedly foreign to myself.

something within this body speaks still whispers, reminding me of the pathless path.

what is within me is nameless, yet I feel the purity of its presence, it is delicate, like a candle flame in a wind storm.

what is within me is my true self, a light wrapped in darkness. infinity imprisoned within mortality. as my bodies dies and returns to gaia, what I am surely, must also return home as well.

though I have no memory of this home, I miss what I can not remember. though I can not speak of home, I miss what is not here on Earth. Here where I am guest, is the property of this body, and this body, is a property of Earth. Still, I miss not what is absent, but what I am a property...