By reason of images created in our brains are we taken out of our very own lives to always be dying. On the other side of death lies our real life we are taught to believe. We call it Paradise or Heaven or the like. Or reincarnation. Life has become a stage upon which we prepare for it, like in a rehearsal. It is the Pinocchio story we experience in an illusion of our own making. Real life escapes us. Real life is unknown to the illusion.
When two meet and fall in love, each with the image of the other, there is no love. It is called love by the images but it is concern for an image and that is not love. That false brand of love is the image of love not the fact of love. It is like we fall in love with the image of love not anything real.
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