It is a strange world.
We are attached to a giant rock, rapidly revolving around an immense ball of fire.
About this perpetual flame other marble-like globes dance in a ceremonial precision.
On a grander scale, this entire design wanders by the edge of an animated octopus we call 'galaxy'.
The arena is empty.
Mostly a dark void sprinkled with countless balls of fire,
surrounded by other rocks and far exotic objects that we don't seem to comprehend.
It is always much easier to name things than to grasp them.
A perplexing reality.
Magnifying our giant rock uncovers concealed layers of onion.
From a heart made of iron to a skin composed of air.
In-between them is that thing we call Life.
As for yourself,
you are a body confined to a fraction of space, forcefully attached to the surface of a rock.
You are consciousness restricted to the Now, distinct and yet inseparable from all.
The body is not what defines you, but the consciousness one cannot define.
The essence of your being is a constant desire,
blended in shades of pain
with touches of joy.
Gazing out of our rock you only see the past.
On it you are lost in the present.
But to the future you are blind.
Is your gift - the present a mere deceit?!
This rock we call home is indeed rocking, and that immense flame in the sky is indeed flaming.
To its rhythm we vibrate between day and night, between magnificent colors and solitary darkness.
The latter is experienced through realistic dreams, and the former unfolds the surreal truth.
However, the biggest wonder of them all is not this outlandish arrangement.
Neither is its magical functionality.
As whether balls of fire, floating rocks or any other devices - one can always marvel on the mere existence of things.
The most inconvenient truth is existence itself.
Why 'is' rather than ' ' ?
What a strange world.