Vicissitudes after a direct experience . Infinity piercing through their eyes. My mind hurls concepts into this vast expanse, trying desperately to reclaim ownership of my spliced body. For hours afterwards I stay fragmented, stubbornly reluctant to incarnate. Yearning with all my being to stay here in this blissful chaos. Returning gradually, I become spiteful. Eyes closed in protest. Wishing I’d kept them in boundless love, forever. . Identity tries desperately to grasp at the experience and claim ownership of it, racing behind this impossibility with its semantics, eventually catching up and pinning me down, pouring old belief patterns into my breath until the divine reveal is encapsulated into something, anything, that makes logical sense to a mind full of limits. . But nothing makes more sense than the raw experience itself. It is pure, unadulterated. This intellectual black hole. I hunger, I starve, for the divine. Take me back. I’m terrified of forgetting, of falling back into...