When you let go of stereotypes, question the assertions of those who claim authoritative positions, and accept yourself for who you are (no matter how much the “you” is uniquely unaligned with the subculture and cultural influences around you), what do you have?

If you are simply the intersection of waveforms, does a “you” exist?

I can say my skin is aging because, although I lose lots of skin cells every day, there is a consistency, a continuity, that goes with the concept of a substance that loses its flexibility and thickness with time, showing flaws, defects and indications of previous incidents that do not go away and, in fact, lead to a partial deterioration of this somewhat hairy divide between myself and the rest of the universe.

Have you ever walked through your neighbourhood and surreptitiously collected the source points of wireless computing signals by wearing a backpack which hides an electronic data collector inside?

Are locks, firewalls and passwords a warning or a challenge to you (and sometimes both)?

Other than gravity, entropy and other currently immutable laws, to what do you owe your existence?  Social rules, both overt and implied?

Are we all just the result of previous beings successfully reproducing themselves?

Do you have a well-trained habit of saying “a group of things is” or the grammatical slip of “a group of things are” in your literary repertoire?

Do you know who Dale Earnhardt, Jr, is?  How about Dr. Grigori Perelman?

Can you ignore all labels and let waveforms pass through you without using a sieve or filter to interpret them?

Have you ever tasted organic chai tea?  Do you know if such a word as “chai” exists and, if so, how it is normally pronounced or correctly spelled/written in its native language?

Do you take (swallow, inject, rub on, drop in, etc.) any prescribed medication and, if so, the etymology of the words that describe what you take?

Daily, I ask myself what I’m doing here, listening to the echoes of the labels that bounce against me from the nearest [sub]culture, restricting myself to the use of a few thousand words, punctuation marks and writing rules to record my place in the universe even though I don’t exist.

We are all disrupters in the flow of time.  Condensed waveform intersections.

I do not exist.  The Book of the Future, which does not exist, either, is a device which reflects waveform intersections that are bound to happen.

A tree cannot see itself as a book, a table or a pencil.

We do not see what we will become, only what we know we can become: intersecting, reflecting waveforms.

Did my red hair, or people’s comment about what red hair means, contribute to my fits of uncontrolled rage when I was a kid?  Is it just me or, when I’m aggressively happy, I, as a male, want to have sex, not romance, to quench my thirst for aggressiveness?

I, this list of labels, am an ordinary guy whose skin shows the scars of UV radiation and entropy.

I have achieved all my dreams and goals.  I am happy to live and ready to die.  This “I” has no need of time or social recognitions/obligations.  “To be” is sufficient to describe me now and in the not-now.

Happiness is a condition of intersecting waveforms, not a goal, or a journey, or an object.

The laws of nature and social rules define the temporary restricted waveform intersections that look like me here.

Remove the labels of “laws of nature” and “social rules” and there is no me.

Time to not be me away from this social phenomenon called a blog.

The meditation session is over.