The Void

 When I look at the world—or listen to the soulful songs playing across the internet—I see an endless showcase of superficial romance. Society paints this sensual, external attachment as the ultimate peak of existence, but I hear almost zero truth in it.

I have reached a point where I can no longer swallow those lines. Through my own inner journey, I have realized that typical human romance, built on a fragile foundation of conditions, expectations, and painful compromises, can no longer quench my thirst. I am sick and tired of the transactional game, and my soul has outgrown the illusion. (There could be come exceptions, refer to "The Void 2 & 3").

The human mind is designed to always look for something to hang onto. But now, finding nothing in the external world that pleases it, my mind is forced to stand still. It searches frantically for something tangible to grasp, but there is nothing left.

Slowly, in that forced stillness, it has started sensing a presence with absolutely no noise.

To the conditioned mind, this noiseless presence appears to be a stark, empty void. Initially, encountering this space is terrifying. The ego panics, trying desperately to escape back to the familiar, known physical world—even though it fully knows that the physical world can no longer quench its thirst.

It takes real guts to look at a mirage and refuse to drink.

After a great deal of this internal struggle, I have finally gathered enough strength to stand firmly in the void. I refuse to slip backward into the exhausting cycle of conditions. I will endure the waiting, and I will not trade the Infinite for a temporary physical distraction.

And the most beautiful part of this quiet rebellion is this: as I finally surrender and stand in the void, I am not suffering. I can actually feel something deeply pleasing. There is a strange, profound peace in having the courage to wait for the unknown. The void is not an empty trap; it is the quiet sanctuary where I am proving my readiness for the True Beloved.