“Wow, I’m sick of doubt. The servants have the power, dog-men and their mean women pulling poor blankets over our sailors. I’m sick of dour faces Staring at me from the TV Tower, I want roses in my garden bower; dig?” – Jim Morrison; An American prayer
Did we make it to the other side, did we unknowingly cross that reality gap, now finding ourselves somehow lost in a void of reason, where there used to be fences of conformity?
Did we slowly pull the razor-like hooks out of our psychological skin to find us floating where gravity used to reign?
Did we find a safe place to lay our burdens; did we make it to the chapel of an inner certainty?
Did The Matrix become so obvious that we now can see, feel and touch it, and living in it, obeying it suddenly is not an option anymore?
Forgetting to ‘administer’ yourself in the Matrix, forgetting to fill out the forms, ask for permissions, slowly like a skilled dancer we can move ever so smoothly even when it stops the music?
Forgetting the logical things, forgetting to believe in a snowstorm? Instinctively now, hearing the false tune of slow foxtrot in the ballroom, insisting on the Mambo – passion driven we are.
Are we searching for something that’s already found us?
A friend said to me: I can’t find the celestial anymore.
I said to my friend: You’re looking for redemption outside of you.