When Worlds Collide
Coming into so-called ‘birth’ we arrive quite content in our own little corner of the universe. That which precedes us, since time immemorial, is our own perception of our ‘exterior’ environment. Filtering life we emerge ready for a full and rewarding life, on our own terms of course.
As we grow into our mental capacities so too does our outlook, reflecting a preconception which leads to the age-old question of whether or not our life is pre-disposed. Is the life we play out before us the one we have already deemed worthy? Perhaps or perhaps not but in either case it is you which decides. You are your own, no one and no thing can change that so why try so hard to comply with something clearly at odds with your own nature? It is indeed a fool’s errand as sooner or later you will arrive right back to where you began - the door of choice.
With choice we are all able to determine our fate, to run smack dab into the reality through which you are reading this now or to understand our own movement and in so coming to it’s terms realize that our worlds need not collide.
Is it true that we are nothing but our accumulated experience, shaped and molded according to the presentation of our ‘exterior’ environment? Does the physical book shape our tale as we carefully read the words within it? That one probably flew over your head but that’s ok because the American dream requires being at war most of the time so tending to the garden is best left for a quiet Sunday afternoon - after church of course.
Anyway, in the interaction between fate and reality there lies the kicker. It’s a place called attention, care-full attention. This ain’t no stage show presenting entertainment for your boredom so as to give the illusion of pleasure. Well, except for the apocalypse, that is. And that is the kicker.
Worlds collide when the disparity reaches a nice warm and toasty level of feverishness. When dreams overtake reality there can’t help but be a new recipe created here in the garden called Eden, no church required.
Zombies already walk the Earth and have for quite some time. Ever see a couch potato call up a shopping channel so as to get home delivery? Ah, fresh meat! These days even the zombies are coming around to be frightened of their own spawn. Yes, we are indeed all in this together, cough.
Before this comes to be a complete train-wreck let’s open up door number two. You know the one. I’m not really interested in those whose fate has been signed, sealed and delivered. For that there is already a fore-telling. What I am interested in is having fate catch up to me so. Sometimes that sucker takes forever. No wonder I like the direct route.
Please don’t mistake that little side tirade as being meaningful as for me it doesn’t matter which world, what collision and who the outcome is. My sight is on something outside of that.
But you go ahead and have fun - while you can. Just remember not to enter the teacher’s lounge when the school bell rings. It’s off limits to the little ones because it’s where the adults hang out in between bouts of useless activity. Perhaps not completely useless but the classroom seems to refill all by it’s self as if by magic. They just keep coming through. I swear there must be a beaten path out one door and right back in through the other. Gee, you look really, ummm, different. Yeah, that’s it.
Gosh, golly, gee, I just crack myself up.
And in that crack worlds collide.