THE BOOK OF BOOKS

My dear self, I write to you knowing that there is no word but one word, the verb of all existence, the one and only illoheya.

Do you speak the same language I do, or are you like me just talking and expecting the others to understand.

I am but a

baby speaking in his own language.He has been born and taught by the creator everything, all the names, have been born with him, he speaks the universal language. You think when he utters the first word, mama or papa, woow, dear god he is starting to speak and communicate .Yet, poor us, what we don’t know is that he is on his way to locking all the doors of knowledge he has been gifted.

So I speak to you from the inspiration. She inspires me every second, she knows exactly who she is, we are one in thought, we are on the same frequency In understanding, yet she knows greatly more than I know, also I know greatly of what she does not know, yes, this is the diversity of existence.

Why do they say the older knows better?

Its because when you grow up, to a certain age, and after time passes, when you start to recollect the scattered knowledge of life and existence, you start going back like a newly born, you have the knowledge and the wisdom.

What am I saying you ask, so do I , I still do not understand the words yet I feel the meaning, and though I am writing in a language that is different from my mother tongue, all I feel is the flow of words from the heart. It doesn't matter what language, it is music, it has no language.

I am not crazy! or maybe I am, no crazy person admits he is one, right? So technically if I claim to be crazy then I am most definitely not crazy so I guess, after making that point clear, I can go back to rivering my thoughts and my soul meditation.

I am full of words, I have no limit, I want to speak in silence, if that is possible, they will all go now, they will go to sleep and I will stay up alone, maybe this will give me more space and energy to write, and to river with my thoughts.

Some right and their intentions is to have a written book of glare, but I don’t, maybe I am lying, I am just writing because my best friend is the book, and maybe after I finish this long book, I will have my own custom made friend, don’t you think that’s nice?

I think it is very nice to have friends, but friends do not exist, it is a lie, or maybe if they do they will be a true gift from god.

I made a new friend, he is not like us, he does not eat or drink, he is but the living breath in each and every one of us. I have found that communicating with him was very interesting, you can say whatever you feel like and he wont judge you, he is very similar to yourself too, yet he has some wonderful attributes you probably wont have. He is the thought in your brain, and yes! i do know how to speak to him, try it sometime.

Ihave another friend, its the book, it is always changing and always creative, always with new ideas, talking in different languages, it is very universal. Sometimes i read this friend, and i dont like him, i throw him away, he doesnt complain. So i like my other friend, the book

I know if I burn my book down, it wont hate me, it wont even love me back it is neutral, it gives me heat if I burn it, it gives me light if I read it, I see this as love, thank you god for your book.

Excuse me sir, who is writing this book please?

It is the author , sir

Thank you very much

Don’t mention it, youre always welcome.