At first, you feel so proud because you've wiped clean the thoughts you were just having until you notice that you're thinking of how proud you are. There's a second layer. So you try to let those thoughts disappear and suddenly it's obvious that is another layer beneath that. It's quiet, hardly there, but there are memories or images or even just feelings there, under the surface, on the third layer. If you focus, maybe you can go further than me, but you'll always have a thought. Perhaps you wonder what's below the sixth layer, after everything else has lost color, shape or texture. Where everything is hazy like a dream. Where there are shapes with teeth lurking, waiting to strike during a relaxed second. An instant when you are alone and unable to defend yourself with denial or other coping mechanisms prescribed by people with PHDs. And what lies beyond them? Nothing? Emptiness? That, I think, is scarier than teeth.
My eyes are so wide open but I don't look at anything. I'm looking through everything.
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