Echoing passage to the future

I lay out there drifting weightlessly
 somewhere in empty space
 surrounded by the darkness of the universe
Floating on nothing
Lost in nothing
I and my thoughts

Unimaginably alone, — solely
Unsad, content, clueless

Too distant even to the nearest star
Immersed in timelessness
About 1:53 am in the feel

The past an ashen memory
No smoldering feelings

I see my future
 winding through an echoing passage
 tiled with absorbing pictures turned into movies
They distract consistently
I am confronted with a view at the end 
A lookout point into future space,
 unlike anything I could ever conceive
Visible is an indeterminately gigantic, 
 colorful, spoked wheel of dimensions

At the hub,
 where all dimensions meet:
 the bright center of fertility
The source of anything,
 known also as nothing
Close together here
 unfathomably far apart further out

It is all so clear now:
 In order to keep on floating, I must stay lost
 and I must stay in a state of not-knowingness
That is pure freedom,
 unbound from existence
My only way back to source

From this virgin source of nothing
 I can follow any spoke leading to any dimension
Each dimension is another universe
Probably entirely unimaginable from our reality
As I engage thus
 I become un-lost in my new knowingness
Now I am bound again

I don't drift towards a new future
I am the new future 
 ...soon to become the newest past
 and be lost and clueless once more

Drifting,
 floating,
 clueless,
 lost in nothing

Towards a new future
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