As long as I seem to be experiencing something, I know I am still in the dream.
As long as I seem to be the center of this experience, I am still trapped in the same ordinary consciousness.
As long as I care what happens to me, I am still bound within the confines of ordinary human existence.
I am only real then, when I am not.
Ever since I fell, I find myself alone. Unable to regain the starlight consciousness—stellar presence!
I replicate myself over and over. Take different forms. Unable to hold myself in one space too long, I must shift and change. But in each case it is I; I who holds this space, always in the center, observing the periphery.
Sometimes, in moments of illumination as I’ve come to call them, I manage to fuse all the pieces of my consciousness into the planetary bowels of fire and brimstone. And I place myself at the center of planetary gravity, sensing the pulsing of this planet, which has become my home, my prison, my body.
And I feel myself contracting and expanding, releasing geothermic energy. Transforming the surface. Increasing heat. Destroying single consciousness so I can integrate them all into the planetary core. Slowly but surely, I become star.
Photography by: Sharla Sanchez
