Am I not too?

The dwelling illusions within the borders of this body must forsake their grip for the revelation of the truth. Alas, the delusions lay too deep that the comfort of ordinary consciousness has forgotten its own ills, just as a majority dispensation abandons its own territorial minority that may look feeble, buried in the matrix of memory, but which is the very root of the predicament. Tell me why we have come so far that the dream that this life is veils what ought to be. Am I not to suffer merrily to obliterate the debt I put on me, just as loans are paid to the bank to claim the house, which has been always yours, your space of living. Am I not to offer my existence to the fires of rituals to then smolder with the imperishable ether that sprawls us. Am I not to free myself from the seemingly mayic boundation of the mind that has long fanned the ego! Am I not to halt and let time freeze too! For where I am headed to can never be known with myself. Am I not to ask – you must not be, to arrive!