The self is a mask without a face,
a beguiling movie set built in the middle of nowhere.
We spend every waking minute and many of the sleeping ones
repairing the cracks and shoring up the supports in the façade.
The self is that fragile. It requires constant maintenance.
When the self loses its power to enchant, the whole of reality reveals its power.
Touched by infinity, nothing is ever the same.
The mask is seen as a mask.
The empty lot behind the false front is revealed.
Only reality is real. The mind game of self-existence is a fake.
No longer living in devotion to the Magic Kingdom of the mind,
Suddenly a raven announces its presence, calling its way across the sky.