Thoughts are becoming slow.

I'm following the breath.

I've landed.

I am here.

Existence is pleasureable in itself.

Am I at the the gateway of presence?

Can I remain here?

Something is crawling on my neck.

No, not now little fella.

Holy shit, it feels as if it's digging into me, but I know that if I swat it, presence will be lost.

I must prevail.

Motherfucker are you digging into my neck?

No no no back to presence, breathe.


Collect yourself dammit.

No larva digging into you neck shall interrupt your coming into presence!

You deserve better than this!

Is it gone?

Did the ego in its shining armor scare that motherfucker off?

Looks like it. Tastes like victory.

I didn't notice I was tense from the itches. Relax. Ahhhh.


That's it. There's a mirror three meters away from me.

I shall take a look:

It was a string.

What a strange portrait there is in the mirror.

I could have not set this up.

Hello there.