I feel easily drained by others. It doesn’t matter how much I love them, nor how comfortable I am with them. I like my solitude. I regulate in my solitude. I must have my solitude.

And sometimes, even in my solitude, I don’t feel that I am truly with myself.

What is the meaning behind that? Not that I must assign meaning to every little thought or thing that occurs. However, I suppose it just means that I don’t always listen to my inner voice—aka, the voice of God. That’s it. That’s what it is. The escape from oneself.

I know that I am essentially an illusion, this self of mine. I don’t feel real most of the time. However, my mind clings to whatever illusion it can. The illusion of angst is the hardest to let go of. That is not an assumption. That is the mind assuming.

If I am not real, then would that mean I am not one? That I am separate from Source? Sometimes separation brings one closer to God than union, than all is one, don’t you think?

If I were to listen to God as a human, wouldn’t I listen so well? But if I were God myself, what is the big deal? What’s there to listen to? I would essentially take it for granted. Is that so wrong after all? That God, which is me, created me in such a way that I take things for granted.

Unless I perceive the matter from the eye of a God, I cannot possibly appreciate absurdity, can I?

So what’s the fuss about? What is it to be Source if it isn’t to be an individual? And what is it to be an individual if not to reach godliness, or perceive it?

An individual believes. Through his beliefs, his life is formed. A God creates. Through his creation, he experiences. That would essentially mean there is no individual without God, as well as no God without an individual.

Now the question is: will God ever stop being an individual? As for the individual, it cannot cease to be God. For God is the container of the individual, and not the other way around, is he not?

What if everything we have gone after throughout history was a mere attempt to perceive God? An attempt at an absurd certainty that can only be found in the hands of God.

Even the negation of His existence is an attempt at certainty through becoming it.

Anyways, I forgot what I wished to say once more. I forgot the purpose of this writing session.

There isn’t any purpose. Or if there was, then it would be the mere pleasure of realising, of questioning, of letting the mind wander.