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Why be confined to making sense? What is sense anyway? Who’s sense and what sense? Nonsense and totalsense.

We are atomized and yearning, craving for reconnection, reabsorption into a greater whole. Free agents dislodged from society’s monolithic block. Community’s dissolution. Disintegration. And yet the elements are continually reconstituting themselves, coalescing and recombining. Searching out sympathetic particles, agglomerations or new and novel combinations.

Who’s or what gravitational field will draw us back into its orbit? Act as hub for our evolving revolve? Affinities and antipathies. The systole and diastole of Life. The flowing towards and flowing away. The attraction and recoil. The dance, the whirl and frenzy. Dizzying speed. Hypnotically intoxicating. Intoxication. Drunkenness. The disorienting discard of personality, of identity. The merging into universal consciousness.

Black void. But a void replete with … Life!

Void that’s never void. Empty, but filled with that which eludes thought. That which scoffs at ideas, humankind’s scraping and digging instruments.

It goes without saying that what I am pointing towards, indicating with words that always prove themselves inadequate, cannot be seen. They are felt, by some I suppose; or I should say by some more than others. But they are not seen by the naked eye. They are ephemeral, ineffable. They are of the divine, the 6th dimension, beyond the realm of the imaginable. However you want to imagine it, if indeed you can imagine it at all. It is affective in each and every one of our lives but it resists our puny efforts to nail it down. Someone who would wish to always beats around the proverbial, mythological bush, always hovers in the vicinity, but never captures corporeally what I am referring to.

Unseen connections, invisible relationships of the heart, mind and soul, and even those words: heart, mind and soul point to things which are not there in living, breathing reality. Chimerical, phantasmagoric, however you want to describe and to define what ISN’T there! Or is, but on another plain of consciousness altogether. But even that other plain of consciousness isn’t there either.

Infinitesimally minute synaptic electrical charges, in the physical plain at any rate, and nothing more.

Try describing an invisible dance, an unseen movement of physical flow that is beyond the limits of the visible eye. It isn’t there and it is. If it exists it inhabits a space in which only the mind’s eye can ever gain access to, and that doesn’t exist either, nor the ‘mind’s eye.’

That is the void. A figment of the imagination, which is a figment of the imagination too! Puzzle within a puzzle, which only certainty in Life can dispel.

Only participation can confirm.