No Way Out

There is no way out of the dream.

What or who would find their way out?
A dream can’t wake up and assert existence outside of itself.
The one who longs to awaken—the seeker, the knower, the struggler—is already part of the dream.

A shimmer in the pattern. An echo pretending to listen.

Dreaming is all there is, or appears to be.
Everything that can be known, noticed, or experienced is dream-stuff.
Even the sense of “me,” the sense of “now I see,” is still part of the dream.

There is no exit.
There never was.

The dream doesn’t resolve.
It doesn’t become truth.
It collapses.

And when it does, there is no revelation.
No arrival.
No presence to confirm what remains.

Nothing is left to assert its reality.
Nothing personal.
Nothing impersonal.

Everything is nothing dreaming something.
And when dreaming ends,
nothing remains.

Not a void.
Not peace.
Not stillness.

Not even absence.

Just no one,
nowhere,
never.

And somehow—
this.

Not to be known.
Not to be lost.
Not to be held.