purity

Its like trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle where all the pieces are completely white and all you're trying to do is make a white square. You can see what pieces join together, but you never know if you're putting them together correctly. You feel the edges and stumble from connection to connection. You focus on forming large sections of interlocking pieces, only to decide - often suddenly - that its all wrong, and so you pull them apart and try again... and again... and again.

Yet there are moment when you understand how it all comes together. You can see all the jigsaw pieces and know how all they all join to make the white square.

Yet those moments are only fleeting. As soon as you try and grasp it, that blinding burst of clarity fades, leaving only a quiet emptiness... resonating with the mere memory of knowing.

We are sustained by these echoes of gnosis; they are the beacons that guide us on our journey forever towards the elusive.

But fuck its frustrating.