Thoughts arise and then take on a life of their own.
They will mimic our human personalities and desires
so well that we come to believe they really are us.
They come from everywhere — the subconscious,
from cellular memories, or from other beings who live
inside and even outside the human body, although
there is no real dividing line between the two.
We are aware of thoughts, but we are not those thoughts,
although the intellect wants to claim them as its own.
Just so, these thoughts which are not my own are swarming
in their self-created hive, building up enough mental energy
to fly out and make these words appear before your eyes.
They want to express themselves by offering fantastic
interpretations to the simple perception of things and events
which might otherwise seem rather mundane, unremarkable,
or at least quite forgettable in the greater scheme.
Maybe they’re a part of that legendary greater scheme
and don’t want to be ignored, suppressed, or systematically
relegated to the category of mere illusion, delusion, or whatever
seems to be stubbornly obstructing our determined march onward
towards the summary realization of our essentially empty nature.
Sometimes a thought will go off on its own, perform amazing feats
of acrobatics, and thereby become the foundation of a religion
or political movement, or even a love letter which sparks
the beginning of a famous romance.
Once all of that has been accomplished, and thinking
has exhausted itself, it might relax at last, drift back
to its source, and dissolve there, just like that.
When the ripples on the water weaken and then vanish,
the pond returns to stillness, as if they were never there.