Tall Tales By The Fireside
Let's face it, we all tell our tales and as we sit by the fireside all comfy and secure, all sorts of dangerous liaisons prop1 up. Igniting fires of interest we throw buckets of gasoline in order to perpetuate our existence living out our hopes and dreams upon the backs of those around us and even volunteering those whom we can. Our efforts ultimately fail of course but as the saying goes there is no harm in trying.
I'm thinking of a picturesque bridge right now in Brooklyn.2
We all rely of the interconnectedness of the universe, the bonds we endure through time and space in order to find our place without which we would be lost, alone and quite afraid. I beg to differ but my playing field is nowhere close to the imagined. In any case, the lines of connection become the tell-tale signs of not only who we are but how we define ourselves. You see, it's not only about our own thinking process because the dead give-a-way is watching the strings come alive with energy as the interchange runs it course.
I'm not trying to say that I see you when you appear to be hiding. I am saying that you give yourself away with every breath3.
Plainly the truth has nothing to do with anything but what is, now there is something to behold. When we fill ourselves with ourselves what is left to lose? That sentence doesn't even make sense because one cannot lose anything so all that it can do is to point one in a particular direction4.
As we build our case we tend to forget that nothing happens by chance and there is no such thing as a coincidence.
Try telling that at your next fire-side chat.
