Imagine a whirlpool,
The whirlpool is your mind,
Its eddies are the neurons of your brain.
Ideas, concepts, impressions are drawn in constantly from the
furthermost reaches of the world outside,
And are gradually pulled down, circling faster, and faster,
Depressed at last to a singularity, discernible to no one in this
Herein lies the illusion,
For the singularity is no end of the line,
But a gateway to the great beyond,
A wormhole in space leading into the other Universe
Where matter is an ectoplasm,
Mind is corporeal,
And time is a concept with neither relevance nor meaning.
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