When you first arrived here on Earth this time around, consciously, you didn't know anything. Everything changed somewhat since your last time, and you seek to know the script all over again.
Even so, at the same time, you know deeper than time. You know deeper than all that you relearn so precociously, and, yet, Life on Earth is also old hat for you. Life on Earth recurs to you the way an old tune runs through your mind and heart, seemingly from out of nowhere. From where you remember this, how you know this, how your awareness arrives, you cannot say, yet a recollection slips out from somewhere, seemingly far away, or, seemingly, not even here at all.
We can say you are a genius who remembers that one and one makes two. Some kind of reconnection is made even as if it were not from within you, as if you had never seen it before. It couldn't really be true.
You seem to be here right now as if you are diving into the present, as if you have no past and no future anyway, as if you ride an elevator that you have no idea of how you got on and how you get off, if ever.
How strange is Life when you find yourself on an escalator. You have no idea how you happen to be here. You have no idea where you go next. You have no idea of Who You Are who seems to ride on an escalator. What a strange interlude it is as you hang out here, looking like you know something when you ride the waves pretending a sophistication that you do not really feel. It must be you pretend to yourself. It must be you fake it, and get away with this for a moment or so, yet at the bottom of your throat, you know you are a novice who hasn't really caught on.
What are you doing here and what for? Is this some kind of rehearsal or is it somewhere you are revisiting? Who on this Earth with a waning heart ever begins to know his name or what to call anyone honestly. Of course, honesty is feared, and why on Earth shouldn't you fear all the nonsense? You find it hard to trust yourself.
You don't fool yourself, not for long, and you don't fool anyone, not for long. You feel adrift. You were planted here. You are trying something out here. You forget what it is.
How would you know the extent of your reach? Who would believe you anyway -- this jaunt or odyssey you are on that is such a mystery to you. It seems that you are not moving yourself, but rather more like you are moved around by some Unseen Hand. You question what choice you have even as it may not matter to you really.
You may feel like a pig in the poke. You wonder what you are doing here on this strange planet or bus or whatever it is you find yourself on. You don't know with certainty that you really want to get to know yourself. What an odd interlude you have here on Earth in which it seems that no one gets to the heart of you. You are not even certain that you exist at all, if you ever did, or were ever meant to.
You are aware that there is something important you forget. Did you leave part of yourself somewhere where you can never be found? When will you start all over? Is it possible that you actually exist? When will you get the hang of this that is called Life.
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