Who Is The "I" That Knows?

Who Is The "I" That Knows?

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Feb 25, 2025
Who is the "I" that knows? Is it the mind, self, or something deeper? This poem weaves through the layers of being, where "I", self, and person dance in the space between thought, feeling, and action. Yet beneath it all, the quiet awareness that exists underneath the surface asks, when you know, who is it that truly knows? Is the answer new, or has it always been waiting here, waiting for you to notice? Waiting for us to see it as it always has been? What is truly at the heart of awareness? Who is the quiet voice that stares beneath the surface, the one who longs to know who it is that truly knows... In the unfolding of each moment, the question lingers. Can we separate the "I" from the world, or are they one and the same? What is the truth we are chasing and who is the "I" that knows?
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Save Me

I was drowning. I knew that. I also knew that the hands around my throat, pushing me deeper into the river water was the cause. What I didn't know was who was drowning me and why. It hurt thinking. It hurt to do anything right now. But I still screamed under the cold water and pushed the hands away as hard as I could. It didn't have much effect. I fought and fought, but I was getting weaker, and colder. The pain was overbearing. I couldn't breathe. It was the worst pain imaginable; and as the hands that were around my neck were forcibly ripped off by some unknown force, I slipped deeper into the depths of the river. My hair was straight above me along with my arms. My eyes were open and the water burned. A darkness started to pull me under, taking the pain away. I felt a small pressure around my waist, before the darkness completely consumed me. The last thing I remember is thinking, save me.

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