The windows of the world

What if the eyes are just windows gazing outside creating time, space, movement, flowers, cats, hats? All there is is just a footage being created by that machine. Each lifetime is just one of many realities created inside that mind. Dreams are just memories of the last incarnation.

An ancestral thought, realities in frames changing in speed that's independent of space-time. They're either bidimensional cards being shuffled or a long tridimensional tube like a connected system of consecutive measures of pipes.

The eyes that observe everything are reality itself. A reality that either doesn't last a bit or lasts forever. In consecutive and infinite clouds of realities. The primordial thought, seen by these eyes as a drop of mercury in the immensity of nothing, expands like amoeba as it changes form crawling like a creepy worm. That thought can even curl on itself creating like twisted pillars of secondary realities that are just distortions of space-time of the main reality. Micro drops of mercury are bursted out of the main mass like in a volcano. Those distortions or micro drops are thoughts. A thought inside a thought. That's the universe! So simple and yet so complex. Either everything or nothing.