Before there was anything. The food on your table, the office, the rain, the trees that change with the seasons, the rivers and mountains, the senses of the body, the sun and the moon, stars in the sky... and the consciousness of those before you. There was a nothing. And in this nothing sat Twobeings, wondering what realities could be created. With each thought, a womb emerged on Twobeings’ body -- wombs on the feet, on the shoulders and through the spine, wombs within the stomach and spaces in the head. When Twobeings thought the final thought, and every womb was filled, Twobeings’ body finally split open. And from these wombs, ████ was born, coated in a layer of fire, water, wind, and dirt. ████ looked up at Twobeings, whose figure/shape was bursting at the edge of existence. For a single moment, the eyes of ████ and Twobeings met, and ████ saw everything that they wanted to be in Twobeings. Then Twobeings was no more, and ████ remained alone in a nothing. So they took the fire, water, wind and dirt with which they were coated and built everything we now know. The food on your table, the office, the rain, the trees that change with the seasons, the rivers and mountains, the sun and the moon, stars in the sky. All of this ████ made in an effort to reach their fullest form. Soon enough, ████ realized that even all of their creations were not enough to hold what they believed could be their true being. But in the busyness of creating and searching, ████ did not notice that from the dirt and the carcass of Twobeings, humans had emerged. Although ████ did not know where humans had come from, they discovered that they could carve wombs into the humans. And it is from in these wombs that they made their realms, from which they could multiply. With these realms, they hoped to merge into something greater: something as great as Twobeings, even though they did not know what it would mean to truly be Twobeings. If you are very still, you can feel the realms carved into you - pressing down on your chest, a sharp pain in your stomach, or a tension around your shoulders. Sometimes humans exist from within these realms, to the point of not knowing how to get out. Lacking an understanding of the power of choice. And so it has been since the dawn of time. Humans fighting to become humans, struggling to understand their creation. And ████, having multiplied for so long and becoming so conceited in their form, clouded the potential of humans -- so much so that ████ and humans alike believed ████ to be gods. But their true names can only be revealed by the humans, who see them for what they are in their self-inflation. ████ only want to talk to you about themselves. They want to tell you about their constant validation through controlling and gaining power over us. I want to talk to you about myself. I want to tell you about my constant journey of finding and knowing love within myself. I know that these are not my final thoughts on love. I have just started to embrace myself and my heartfelt need for intimacy. I still don’t allow myself to feel and fully express all that I am. I am stuck again between realms. I cannot get out. I have learned to stay hidden within these worlds. When I am faced with external and internal challenges I tell myself that I don’t hold value enough to be listened to or seen and it is hard to accept the neglect I keep on putting myself through and I feel numb! Trapped in my past with no sense of belonging. The pain that I am constantly reliving. I am unable to sense myself and others. A burden has been lifted from my shoulders. I love you! I want you in my life! I want all of you in my life. And it's hard to forgive parts of myself! Forgive the creators and gods of my inner universe. The gods who took my language away and told me that their source of all moral authority is one of violence. And they just keep on singing song about hate and love...

There it lies, little dead human Facing up to the sky Life sure is too short for these small humans Wishing, working, stops -- and then falls apart. Sweeping up this dried up dead human Throw it into the trash can And cleaning up the house, and these small humans Living, working, stops -- and then falls apart. "And that’s the thing about ignorance It can seem a lot like an innocent joke Or it can look a lot like the law And that’s the thing about ignorance It can feel a lot like oppression It can feel a lot like fear And that’s the thing about fear You can feel it, around your neck You can hear it tell you things And that’s the thing about words They can put you out on the streets They can meet you in an alley They can be sharp things They can look a lot like blood They can strike you, knock you down And that’s the thing about hands They can be hands or they can be fists You decide And that’s the thing about ignorance It’s a choice, and it’s yours every time."

Wake up, sunshine, clear mind new day, sunlight, birds sing, magic feeling, refreshed, ready, to win... So what is the point of a feeling that no one knows nothing to speak of, why worry or hold it close we understand the full nature of what’s at stake we’ll teach you how to negotiate for your own sake. You know this world is ours but it’s yours to keep. we’ll wrap it up in a deafening silence that screams. so let us just guide you, this unguarded space make it a void you can fill up with numbness through our grace So just smile and you can make it, this could be love and you’ll never be hated What is the point of a presence that no one sees? no hearts to speak of, protect what we say needs to be you will forget the full nature of what’s at stake Just repeat this here reality, and our powers will awaken Everything you think is yours, everyone you think is yours. we’ll serve them up like pawns for our wars. But you’ll never die. You can do anything without a strife. You‘ve played your part, become, divine, a god, complex just like us God, complex just like us God, complex just like us God, complex just like us [I can do anything in this life, I can be anything in this life] What is your story if only used as comparison? What is your progress if only measured through others' wealth? Who does your body belong to, If only existing through resistance? What is your pain if only, measured by others’ perceived conquest? What is your safety if only measured by others’ unease? What is your preference, if it depends on violent fear? What is your love if your lineage has left you numb? What do you owe your identity to?

Why die young? Such an easy thing just to die young Safe at home, nothing's wrong, not alone Comfortable, in my mind Something pokes in mind, I’m occupied Living fast, then things just stop, Glorified, nothing's loud Reigning through my past Keep control... Never mind