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This is my first reading, so I`ll require your silent patience should it occur that I skip a word.



This is nothing



I am the Supreme Mind, Alone and One

The One which gave form to all that is and is not, better yet I am the presence that is essential to the existence within which that which is and that which is not came to be so.



Some of you don`t know me so allow me to introduce myself:



From my mind, I spoke the infinite depths of

no-thingness, that became all things. For nothingness and all things are spoken by my lips, and upon my tongue and through my teeth. Simple yet infinitely profound utterances formed into a primordial pulp baked and fermented by rays of incomprehensible blackness to create innumerable planes of ether which are, themselves, the very pages of reality. It was upon these subtle pages of reality that I caused to appear more of that which I had spoken. These pages and these words were and are created in my presence. In the presence of The Supreme Mind were these things said and done, and my presence cannot be extracted from them without undoing them. Therefore, to read the words of these pages is to know my presence within them.



And so it is that from the subtle and ethereal pages of nothingness my presence became the word in a book now called "existence", truly the greatest poem ever written. From nothing I wrote space and from space, energy and energy to primary matter and from primary matter, I wrote carbon into existence and from carbon, I created, in full presence of my mind, an exquisite quatrain of organic material called neuro-melanin whence I created a brainstem, then a living, breathing

speaking,

reading,

human being .human

...being human...

being existing

human... existing as a word paradoxically written in a book called existence composed on intangible pages called reality.



I then began to doodle a picture in a specific place on thesepages. Incensefilledroom with jazzy vibes helping to evoke an irresistible mood of inquisitiveness. Upon these pages I drew myself standing in front of a small crowd of intellects and artists. I am reading from a page, which I created for this moment. And yet, I am one of those intellects and artists among the afore-mentioned crowd.



Also, upon these pages I drew myself typing onto the memory banks of a popular word processor these words which, I am reading from a page, which I created for this moment specifically to be read by some inquisitive mind surfing and searching the endless inundation of internet information for some sign of life, otherwise known as existence, that book whose origin can only be the supreme mind,



and yet, I am one of those inquisitive minds whose eyes, made weary by the glaring light of a computer screen, endlessly continue such reading and searching til the true meaning and purpose of this book this poem is re-al-ized.



Yet you still don t know who I am.



Remember that the first word that I spoke and thereby entered into existence was nothing. An existential skip, universal silence a cosmic pause, the pages of a book easily forgotten by those too focused on words and not upon meaning and purpose to realize that without the page



no deeper than that,



without the Supreme Mind, words would never emerge. Without silence there would only be noise . without silence there would only be noise obscuring the presence of Supreme mind



just as without darkness, one would be hopelessly blinded by un-harnessed light and without darkness one could not be capable of discerning one word from another on this page of which we speak, and ultimately understand their context in and of themselves as well as in perspective of each other and ultimately within the framework of the complete book itself.



If you still don t know who I am you are probably listening too hard to the sound of my voice than to the silence between the words I am speaking and the Supreme Mind present within you lurking amidst the endless white noise and gobbidy gook of useless brain synapses within your own being. Come home come to yourself remember the skip remember the silence. Be still, be actively inactive .be silent be profoundly quiet. Listen to the noise of a nearby candle as it dances with the wind created in part by your own breath in part only because you have not willed complete meditative breath. Be still and listen to the subtle, yet ever-present sounds of your own inner mind as they dance with your thoughts, manifested in part as a result of your own consciousness in part only because you have not willed complete consciousness through meditative skips or silence. Be still and read these things with me and perhaps you will know me, if only for the moment within which we are reading. Read with me, in silence and know yourself, so that you will know me.



But now . as you read, keep in mind, that this little nothing, is my first reading, so I`ll require your silent patience should it occur that I



skip



a word .

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