"In a little while you will be alone in shoreless space, to wander its limitless solitudes without friend or comrade forever--for you will remain a thought, the only existent thought, and by your nature inextinguishable, indestructible. But I, your poor servant, have revealed you to yourself and set you free. Dream other dreams, and better!...You perceive, now, that these things are all impossible except in a dream. You perceive that they are pure and puerile insanities, the silly creations of an imagination that is not conscious of its freaks - in a word, that they are a dream, and you the maker of it. The dream-marks are all present; you should have recognized them earlier. It is true, that which I have revealed to you; there is no God, no universe, no human race, no earthly life, no heaven, no hell. It is all a dream - a grotesque and foolish dream. Nothing exists but you. And you are but a thought - a vagrant thought, a useless thought, a homeless thought, wandering forlorn among the empty eternities."
-Mark Twain
What is there to be said if Blake and Twain are indeed correct? Should man be willing to cleanse the doors of perception? To embrace the infinite? And to think all it takes is a thought, the will to be and to see, to abdicate the flesh and mind, to acknowledge and therefore become once again an integral part of the process that unifies and defines existence, the universe and all things confined within it are a process, one long, unwinding skein whose threads disenthrall softly as time marches on.
It is only right to crawl through the narrow chinks of my cavern. It is my most secret nature.
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