I lay in the bathtub and drifted.
Happiness, for me, lies in pulling the plug on active thought. I eliminate all the straight lines and right-angles, and leave the diffuse, the luminous, the indistinct forms.
It is impossible to really define what a human is, because we are not actually human.
We do not, and can not, know this thing we inhabit.
We can, however, with great diligence, discover what we really are.
And if we succeed in that, we can know we are not human at all.
The potential for consciousness exists within each human.
It remains unconscious as long as it is ignorant of its existence.
If, and when, it becomes aware of itself, it becomes clear that it is not the form it inhabits.
That form is a vehicle for its physical manifestation.
It was a particularly pleasant bath. I felt calm again, could breathe again, and feel content again.
My wife visited, during the event, and asked if anything was wrong. She said I seemed 'different'.
I was, I said. Very. And no, nothing was wrong.