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January 4th 2012.
Oftentimes will a certain event come into existence. One may find oneself in a situation where one is faced with a dilemma of the mind that seems unintelligible. It is a condition that cannot be explained in a simple manner. Yet I will try, notwithstanding that I feel that I may lose a good majority of my readers due to its abstruse content.
It begins with a hunch, a sort of certainty that, in fact, the world is not what it seems; that reality is nothing but an interpretation of what really is; a certainty that the laws of nature can be bended and even altered; a positive feeling that somehow you are part of an extraordinary plan and that your role to play in it is unique and wonderful.… Well it may be necessary at this point that I spare you any further blurriness of the content of this discourse. In order for this attempt for clarification to be possible however I must indulge myself in starting over with the explanation of the phenomena of which this letter is subject.
I am lifting objects with my mind. It began with an impetus, a stimulus. I began to feel the actual need to move something. And though I had no prior knowledge about how I was to perform this feat, a strong sense of confidence and willpower began to flood my mind. Intuition had shown itself reliable to me for a long while. So I decided to listen to the feeling that seemed to be screaming “Move the pencil!” and then shedding all doubt of my ability to mentally move pencil, I began to do so. The experience was powerful. I began to feel at awe at the force that was working through me to enable such an exploit. I had become the pencil but I was also still myself. And at a moment I began to experience being everything. The pencil, the table it was on, my entire room, and then eventually I felt as I was at one with the world. I was the world.
January 4th 2012.
Oftentimes will a certain event come into existence. One may find oneself in a situation where one is faced with a dilemma of the mind that seems unintelligible. It is a condition that cannot be explained in a simple manner. Yet I will try, notwithstanding that I feel that I may lose a good majority of my readers due to its abstruse content.
It begins with a hunch, a sort of certainty that, in fact, the world is not what it seems; that reality is nothing but an interpretation of what really is; a certainty that the laws of nature can be bended and even altered; a positive feeling that somehow you are part of an extraordinary plan and that your role to play in it is unique and wonderful.… Well it may be necessary at this point that I spare you any further blurriness of the content of this discourse. In order for this attempt for clarification to be possible however I must indulge myself in starting over with the explanation of the phenomena of which this letter is subject.
I am lifting objects with my mind. It began with an impetus, a stimulus. I began to feel the actual need to move something. And though I had no prior knowledge about how I was to perform this feat, a strong sense of confidence and willpower began to flood my mind. Intuition had shown itself reliable to me for a long while. So I decided to listen to the feeling that seemed to be screaming “Move the pencil!” and then shedding all doubt of my ability to mentally move pencil, I began to do so. The experience was powerful. I began to feel at awe at the force that was working through me to enable such an exploit. I had become the pencil but I was also still myself. And at a moment I began to experience being everything. The pencil, the table it was on, my entire room, and then eventually I felt as I was at one with the world. I was the world.
posted by Albouri Ndiaye at 9:40 AM
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