In The Interest Of Compulsion
Travelling down those dusty roads that we have all imagined, we come to 'find' one thing or another. Let's face it, 'surprises' are not our forte. As our travel plans are well thought out and dutifully followed, with conviction we sometimes scratch our itch. In presenting ourselves with our selves there is no telling what can happen1.
The life we lead is not our own. Even though we stake claim to the universe we at the same time understand that our way is but a thin small glance upon the bigger picture. As we attempt to encapsulate existence, we become as so life unfolds before us beckoning us ever onward into some 'unknown' future. Leading us by the nose, we dutifully take step.
Even though there is no awakening it survives none-the-less as our disappointment in the creation of such creates an unbearable sorrow.n Let the kids have their say2.
As we move ahead time seems irrelevant as our convictions must retain it's self superiority. To survive something must give way and so we give up the ghost of Christmas past. Temporary relief is still relief albeit temporary at best. At worse we live a life of sorrow always seeking some imagined happiness to fall into and upon our lap. Surely we are worthy of such.
Clutching, we come to understand our creation and creations. Exhibiting our hopes and dreams, we solidify our being. Yes, it is true. We are.
Happy now?
