He was trying to create his world, from the woods and the dust, and the deepest love. With pieces of green; walking down through the forest, the water becomes life under his thoughts. The warm hand crossed the wound, and with the heat of his center; relieving the suffering around. It just was the mind on the sky with a beautiful little rose. It just was the breath of the forgotten people, hungry and thirsty; ignoring their own power.
When the night came out, he started to draw upon his right of free will; flying along the distance; learning and teaching, the student and professor, as above so below. But he couldn't resist to ascend. Consciousness levels. No one knows the things that only you should know, nobody can expand your greatness. The necessity of the absolut truth, without ambivalence, without duality.
Before flowering, Indiö Pop' lost his memories; he couldn't defend of himself by himself, he couldn't avoid all those fake information; confusing him, distracting him, crushing him. He put all the insecurities and unfounded fears in his actions, he started to feel empty and impure, he betrayed his own needs to please his invented deamons, throwing him into the garbage again, and again, and again.
But everything has a right cause, information means knowledge which in time means power, and power means the hability to be all that things that you want to be. Beyond shadows and fears, beyond confusion and sadness. Even so, ahead of reaching the more enlightened peak of his own glory. He must to recognize the suffering and insecurities imposed by himself trying to teach him how to be great and perfect.
Along the distance, after being invented and uninvented, after being a mess and perfect, after "being". From the deepest love, understanding appeared to teach him even more. The energy started to flow with the silent thought. But he can't, not because he can't. He can't because he need to learn more about it. To be stronger about it. To bloom magnificent without fears and sandness. With all his concentrated light.
There is a long road to ride, there's no more energy to waste, the tears have been gone. The suffering was strenght and courage, was benevolence and kindness, was unconditional love. Now is easy to understand, at the end he had been part of everything, and everything had been part of him. Changing its patterns and shapes as the way that wisely had to be, there is no doubt that Indiö Pop was only the reflect of the nothing, and from the nothing we were part of the same breath.
But everything has a right cause, information means knowledge which in time means power, and power means the hability to be all that things that you want to be. Beyond shadows and fears, beyond confusion and sadness. Even so, ahead of reaching the more enlightened peak of his own glory. He must to recognize the suffering and insecurities imposed by himself trying to teach him how to be great and perfect.
Along the distance, after being invented and uninvented, after being a mess and perfect, after "being". From the deepest love, understanding appeared to teach him even more. The energy started to flow with the silent thought. But he can't, not because he can't. He can't because he need to learn more about it. To be stronger about it. To bloom magnificent without fears and sandness. With all his concentrated light.
There is a long road to ride, there's no more energy to waste, the tears have been gone. The suffering was strenght and courage, was benevolence and kindness, was unconditional love. Now is easy to understand, at the end he had been part of everything, and everything had been part of him. Changing its patterns and shapes as the way that wisely had to be, there is no doubt that Indiö Pop was only the reflect of the nothing, and from the nothing we were part of the same breath.
