Nothing

I am nothing.
I have nothing to add.
There is no more, than I am.
I am being.
Now I am being a self-awareness.
I ponder, I am a something, somewhere.
Somewhere, is wherever I am.
I am not sure if there is another being, in another somewhere.
There must be, because I thought it.
I am thinking.
What is this thing that appears to be me?
What is this something that I feel I am?
I stop thinking but I keep being.
Something is feeding thoughts into this somewhere.
Something is taking me away from nowhere.
Now, I am in a somewhere where there are ideas.
I sense thoughts forming, reference points, duality, separation.
Where are they from?
Now I am me, observing I am.
I think about the ideas coming from the somewhere, that I am not.
I play with these thoughts.
I look at the ideas and I think, what if I think this or that?
And it starts.
A reality bursts into being, one idea splitting from another.
In a spontaneous outburst of endless division, something happened.
Instantly it is all done.
The somewhere that I am, is filled with ideas and possibilities, new thoughts and improbabilities.
An idea gave birth to a trillion thoughts.
A reality is formed.
The more it is observed, the more it divides.
The closer I look, the further it goes.
I am the observer of an idea that came from somewhere else.
I am an observer, watching ideas unfold from one idea.
All ideas come from the One, from which I came.
The One in the other somewhere is the cause of creation.
That which I am gives this cause intent, and so it divides endlessly.
One is the origin, the point of zero, the nothingness, the unformed everything that was, and could ever be.
I am nothing, yet I create worlds.
How interesting,