I called it Jesus Incognito. I wrote it like a madman.
I was a kid who thought he could write.
I wanted to impress a girl and I played the fool. It wasn’t me writing but someone else that was writing. The why behind it was not the real reason. There was only a reasonable and yet temporary excuse: an identity playing in the surface world.
Until later, I learned to write other things.
The I was in search of truth beyond a moment in time.
Only temporary identities and narratives would act as vehicles in lanes serving different purposes in the search for a self-realization. Between inner and outer realities lie bridges in between these worlds: bridges of language and time…
Towards Spirit without Time.