I am nothing, yet everything is in me. I can not know myself, yet all I know is me. All I can say is unreal, yet every word expresses part of me. I have no form, yet every form belongs to me. I don´t exist, yet I´m writing this. There is no other, yet in others I see me. Every form is unique, yet they are an extension of me. Every experience counts, yet none touches me. I see suffer, pain and joy, yet love is all there is. Every creation is swallowed by time, yet I see time passing by. Who am I?