Experience a truth
Then communicate about it
Invariably you would be told
It's partial
Then again you start learning
Struggling, journeying,
Probably you stop at a person,
And you call it home, that
Here is where you know
Who you are
What you are
If you were young you would
Have decades to induce thought
Induced experiences
Which tell you about
Awareness of I am
Within the background of
How much you labeled the
I am
It remains the ultimate question
It keeps remaining the first for you
It turns you in to a teacher,
You adopt this label on you
And you try to be still
Through thoughts of your own
And through those whom you
Label as your students/ friends
Exploring all that you aren't
And all that not exists
In a meaningless discovery
Of who am I.
The beingness and discovering that awareness is noise too,
Noise like any other chatter,
Being attached with the background of being unattached.
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