I am a ghost. Floating above the world, looking down, looking through.
I have been unplugged from the Matrix. Freed from Plato’s cave. Broken from the earthen chains of gravity.
You think you see me, but you don’t really see Me. For you see but an apparition, a physical manifestation of the spiritual within.
I am no longer able to stop and smell the roses, for I cannot see the roses. Whereas the world stops and sniffs the roses because it cannot see the suffering around them.
I am a prophet, a mortal ghost, living on another plane of existence.
Sometimes it is lonely being a ghost, but I know it is lonelier not being one.
Sometimes it is lonely drifting through this carnal world, but lonely freedom is better than communal slavery.
I wander the earth looking for others who have died to this world, yet live within it.