intransient

the cockroaches of the mind, the attachments and fears of the ego. the plane of samsakaras, the well of despair. take your pick, all are illusions, nothing satisfies or destroys. there is nothing that will endure. your own world is destroyed when you sleep, recreated when you awaken, with subtle differences.we recreate the world as we want, as we feel, as we believe and this changes constantly. one day we love our children, the next they are the objects of our failure and success, the next they are agents of our bondage, every moment we switch our needs our desires our painful attachments to that which makes us feel alive. for its life, in all its feeling and activity that we are drawn, yet nothing lasts, nothing goes beyond this moment, for in the next we need to reexpeience that which we just held just experienced, its reality already fading our needs reasserting into our consciousness, we are incomplete our reality in danger or happy only when this desire or that need is satisfied. and then we start all over a new cycle and repeat that which worked in the past.the endless attempts to go beyond, just make it more defined, more powerfully exposed.the truth of my feeling is the despair the wall and well of pain that all these attachments leave me with, the sense that nothing i do can release the pain i bring myself, the things i do for love become the very agents of absolute attachment and bondage. the realization that even the entanglement of spiritual experience becomes the fog of actions that empty the self and destroy the world, and leave the broken remains unable to move in any direction and the force of the hard realization breaking the bones of the hearts wanting, and the souls yearning until i understand there is no way for me to escape from myself as long as i want to be loved.