I am the fake.
I am the false.
I am but a mask of flesh, for the faceless and the fleshless.
This person, this name, this form:
all of these thoughts, this voice:
all of these objects of awareness,
perceived in simple awareness,
are too complicated, too bold:
strenuous statements of information
within the simple, silent, and undefined.
Simple consciousness is the real.
Look past these lovely expressions of the inexpressible,
and rest in the deep peace of this living annihilation:
this loving silence from which all things arise.