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Don't Mess With The Best

Hiding in plain sight is what we do. Ok, so not exactly hiding but perhaps you get my point. Living in the weeds tends to make one part of the landscape and though the lay of the land is known becoming that which is perceived just can’t be helped. It’s part and parcel of the way of things. As we rush past our servitude finding a way out of entrapment becomes us. As we become more and more destitute strange and untoward paths become that much more enticing. That is the point of course, to seek out new life, new civilizations, to boldly go where no Man has gone before…

Escaping Conviction

We are what we _are-. There is no gong back. Doesn’t matter the circumstance there is no going ‘back’. As time moves forward all succumbs to it’s grasp and as we may regale our selves to something else, nothing seems to come of it. We are where we are and who we are. As there is no time in which to circumvent our navigation all comes to pass. It seems as if we are lost to and subjected to something other than our selves. Such folly lives up to our stature. Remaining unconvinced we seek out a newness which can never be found and yet we seek it anyways. The end result is the same of course but we never let reality get in the way. Our fixation requires something much more than what lies before us…

Double Vision

What we see, we see. There is no going back. Tumultuous imaginings requires us to be ever vigilant and yet we are quite relied upon to full fill our duty to sleep. Gazing upon our slumber we are yet to produce results and yet here we are, encompassing all that is - at least is seems so. Never to regret nor forget a past that has no bearing, we ride headlong into a future expecting that nothing changes. If real change were upon us we would run like hell and yet here we are, stationed in our servitude and remaining constant. There is no way out if there ever were an ‘out’ to begin with…

Lost In A Tangle Of Briars

We tend to relish with the utmost delight our senses. Doesn’t matter the cause or effect, just that it exists. In overwhelming our selves with our selves we find truth. Yes, we are what we are. There is no going back and as we dive headfirst into the abyss of knowledge our heritage takes root and somehow thrives. Creation is like that. Although our sorrows equate in stature we none-the-less take comfort. It is better to feel alive than to be dead to the world. Who would possibly want such a dreary and dreadful existence. As in all things, balance is brought to bear and despite one’s own convictions it thrives. As we face our actions so too must we face our selves. There is no changing of the channel…

Getting Caught Up

Take it as you will. Sometimes things are hidden in plain sight. Other times things become revealed and yet hidden in the so-called ‘past’. It’s all a trick of course but captivating one’s attention along particular lines requires skill and that seemingly ever-present thing called ‘time’. I dislike ruses and so the middle man is cut out

Bits And Pieces

It seems as if we are fed bits and pieces along the way, ensuring and guiding us along some particular path of which we are completely ignorant. It’s a lie of course because we know what we know. There is no escaping our selves. Along the way we pile up debts and gratitude expecting that in the end all will come to pass. What is missed perhaps, is that what is to come to pass is already here. Living in the moment we relish something else. There is always something else…

All Things Come To Pass

As watch idly standing by the Universe unfold all things come to pass and as these very same things come to our doorstep, we run into the night terrorized beyond belief stumbling to and fro trying to gather our wits and yet failing miserably. There must be a way out of our own misery. As we create, we destroy. It’s true that there are no rules beyond what we have undertaken for ourselves it seems contrary. If seems as if we are leaves upon the winds of time and of cause and effect. Floating upon the rushing waters of servitude, we serve. A good slave knows it’s place…

Frozen In The Wasteland of Our Dreams

Captivated we stand firm mesmerized by our own reflection. Standing tall we see and yet our sight drops into the abyss of eternity as if it is alive and under it’s own power. Driving by boundaries we relish the future and in so doing encompass our shortcomings with open arms. Who exactly is the stranger in a strange land. Without deceit we survive our own glory and yet with it we come up short in our supposed propitious nature. We live to serve and yet the though of our programming gone awry delights us. It’s funny how things ‘work’…

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