I am whole, I have been whole all this time,

I just forgot to remember.

I am everyone, everyone’s name is I.

Eventually, I became more attached to the concept of I.

No painting is same as the other, no tree branches like the other, always some variation that makes one, the other.

The variation makes one unique,

The variation makes one distinct,

The reason for pride becomes the reason why one feels lonely.

The pride is because of the attachment to the uniqueness,

The loneliness is because of the attachment to the separateness.

A second I am here, and then I am not,

Harder to accept, the more I believe in the belief of I.