Mindless Wanderings

Crossing the boundary living the dream we peer and poke into the nether world hoping upon hope that it is we who shall be the one, the one to survive where all others have fallen. Rising from the depths of our own heritage we extend our reach into the vast unknown hoping to pull a rabbit out of the hat. Moving our eyes lightly over the audience we wait for our just rewards. Are we not grand!

Bowing to no one we extend our warmest wishes in spite of our conviction that it is we who must be on the receiving end time and time again. Proudly we display our humanity knowing full well that we have even more tricks up our sleeve. Dusting off our finest dress we lay upon hands and ensure our palms beckon offerings of selfless sharing and caring. Is this not what others do, should they not perform as the role requires?

Laying waste upon the landscape we leave our mark for all to see. Wretched are the ways and means of the dying and destitute - what else can darkness be for than to exclude the light, to chase it away?

Efforting in fear requires some small sense of egocentric ideological thinking in that we are what we must be and therefore should accept such. Engaging in dialogue, the tendency is to master the route to conviction through self deception and intrigue. One must retain a skeleton in the closet!

Breaking the back of isolation we look out upon our domain and denote that something is missing. Scratching the proverbial head in seeming perplexity we stab in the dark with the light of our intellect and always come up short. But that is what memory is all about, is it not? Losing our tracks in the sands of time we ever venture onward out into the vast inescapable plight of our own desire. Looking in the mirror is for children!

Mighty is the oak as it pretends to embody the wisdom duly lacking among the beasts of burden. Shifting one’s weight this way and that all that becomes of us is nothing but of us. Running out into the landscapes of our dreams, we dream. Dozing at the gates of Heaven we never wake up or what else is sloth for?

As an emotional state fear provides us with an enormous amount of experiential delight. It’s strong scent of character entices us ever onward into the deep dark depths of obscurity. Running away from the light we fervently seek out the confines of the dark in which to lick our self esteem into something more than the speck of worthless baggage it really is. Scribbling upon the wall of darkness we divine both the past and the future from those who have gone before us. Researching our way into a corner we withdraw ever further so as to not make it plain for all to see that we are nothing but a thin shadow of what we once were and with no short supply of criticism, of what we really are. Deepening our dark and dreary mood we take refuge in the fact that we are not alone and gladly pull others out of the light so as to not be alone.

But we are alone.

Walking among the dead and dying in a world populated by sock puppets we dare not look into the eyes of the puppeteer lest we find someone home looking right back at us. Trembling with the fear of being found out we succumb to anything and everything, hiding amongst the display cases of temptation and mockery. There is no way out we keep telling ourselves so that our spirits remain lifted or at least we hope so. Good companionship along a dangerous road is always welcomed with open arms. Safety in numbers defines our fears and though we proudly display our physical prowess for all to see and glorify, nothing can hide the fact of our own small and insignificant being. Fear shows itself despite our best efforts and sometimes in complete contrast to how we dress our sock puppet. It’s not who you know or how you know as either road takes one to intellectual shenanigans with no regard for peeking beyond the veil of ignorance.

As we turn out the light before bed taking comfort in the quiet of darkness, our dreams betray us.

Looking through our eyes we see the world at large and take refuge in the fact of our creation. In so becoming we find purpose and plan in which to take experience. From cause to effect our happiness travels the world over seeking and looking. As the dog on the leash, the pull is ever present and we duly follow, we must follow. The life we live becomes not of our own making but the rewards derived from the fruits of our labor. Always the rewards.

As we take notice of attention we watch ourselves move through perception and out into the world. Becoming real we are. Free to do what we like, we do and ever remind ourselves that our fate is sealed since we have made it to be so. Living the life of our dreams we play it out and wring out all that we can of it relishing the experience of being alive. As the sun warms our back we follow the forward leading shadow through thick and thin, ever pressing onward into greater and greater depths and heights.

The roller coaster ride of life and living display thought in motion.

Intelligence, knowledge and wisdom. These three kings bear many gifts, each to their own. Amazingly enough, not many really understand what these three are so here is a bit of an allegory to help explain.

Primitive Man necessitated the acquisition of food in order to ensure the survival of it’s self. As bound by duty a member or members of the human cluster went out into the wild vastness of the Universe to bring back sustenance. At first, lacking the necessary skills, the hunt came up empty and sometimes the hunter became the hunted and perished along the way. Experience being the driving factor, the will of Primitive Man endured and overcame. In time the wiser became well-fed while the inexperienced become humble and submissive in order that they too would survive.

Undertaking the hunt, the older and wiser among them would calmly perform the ritual of sacrifice despite and sometimes because of, the perils involved. The inexperienced, unknowing in the ways and means of the Universe, took their cue from those who demonstrably endured.

They have a life of their own. Just sitting there until being put to use, the life they lead is not their own. That is their life - waiting to be made use of which in and of itself is not necessarily a negative but in this case it certainly is. Man is their god and by thus accepting such their lives become full-filled, just like their cousins who walk in flesh.

When one becomes full-filled there is nothing left to achieve or desire. No compulsion is nurtured to become something or another but until that point is reached we endure our roles as making the world just a tad safer by being placed in danger.

Yes, that is the dichotomy of Man. By placing one’s self in danger peace is assured but it is never a peace for ourselves for the puppet masters care only for their toys to the extent that they are considered ‘use-full’. The will of Man contains gaping holes through which is poured the dreamsof other Men. Dreaming the dream of life and death Man resoundingly chooses living the life of pain and sorrow. The weary know not of rest.

The following is a work-in-progress and purposefully so.
Therefore it is updated accordingly.

From the unfathomable vastness of Nothingness, movement occurs.

The truth of today is but the darkness of tomorrow. Seeking the light, we yearn to be free of the truth of our forefathers i much the same way that are progeny shall rid themselves of the wisdom of the ages.

The wisdom that was hard fought is the truth that came at a price out of comparison to the rewards in which it was cloaked. Truth and wisdom each contain their own descendants of evil, but in reality truth is only the small sum of our hopes and dream encompassed on a far greater scale. The scale of life is the scale of a fictitious truth.

The play and the players both coalesce into the experience of the moment and the pain of yesterday as well as the fears of tomorrow. All come true as truth is not always that which is sought, but which may arrive of it’s own accord. Believability is a far cry of a moralistic approach.

Lurking and seeking the wisdom whose existence has been promised to us all at one time or another, if a fable come true. The sought rewards may indeed arrive, but the wisdom, in most cases, is entirely neglected.

Breath the life of truth and wisdom plummets to your doorstep, empowering all that it seeks. Life is for the living and though it’s pleasantry may be unaccustomed, it’s purpose reveals so much more.

The once peaceful rolling hills of despair have been turned on it’s ear. No longer are the destitute and dying finding a place to swing their hips to the ever popular dance beat called ‘survive’!. Languishing in self pity the sheep have nary a word to the wise other than the shrill scream of the death plunge off the face of the cliff. Dwindling in sorrow, despair can come to know the bottomless pit of nastiness called the evil that Men do. Facing ourselves in the mirror is never easy but sooner or later we must all come to terms with our nefarious twisted ways, our conniving and devious tactics of waylaying responsibility. When our deeds become righteous no matter the pain and suffering we lay at the feet of one and all it is then that our path has surely moved beyond the sane and into the jungle of perversion.

It is to this day that the path has come full circle.

If one were to kill the messenger then we would all be dead but who would be left to accept our neglect of responsibility? Who would be left to trample under our fleet of foot so calculated and cold? Indeed, who would be left?

There is only us who are left. There is the one and only ‘me’.

“Good… bad… I’m the guy with the gun.” - Army of Darkness

In goodness there is evil and in evil, there lies goodness. One without the other is like missing a dance partner while shimmying and shaking to the latest dance craze. Two poles, two opposites. In relation we establish rules of the road, of what is good and what is bad. Running from one extreme while embracing the other we tend to get caught up in the emotional turmoil of it all - all in the name of moral authority of course.

Well, there is no moral authority among those who play Duopoly, the game of chance, of blame, shame and regret. As we point our fingers against those who rub us the wrong way we equally point out the fact that we are the missing link looking for nothing else but acknowledgement of our own selfish desires, of our own thoughtless plundering among the sleeping populace. Why not take advantage of the situation, we ask ourselves fully expecting the appropriate justification as we dunk one more witch under the water of lies and deceit.

The Age of Innocence is rapidly drawing to a close. Leaving the embrace of childish pursuits behind maturity begins to work it’s magic. It’s a maxim that no child is left behind because as children our own temptation requires of us to be self centered to as great a degree as possible. Moving into maturity requires something very foreign of a child and as maturity begins to rub us the wrong way it slowly makes it’s way into our hearts and minds. Something different happens.

Our self-centered nature requires us to be completely consumed within our own little corner of the universe where we are free to obsessively and compulsively act upon each and every whim of our desire. This desire carries us away and in our perpetual Quest of experiential delight we relish each and every opportunity to be consumed by our consumption. What else could ever be possibly grander than the experience of self?

Looking in the mirror we smile with satisfaction relishing the fact that we are able to see ourselves, to experience ourselves to such a grand and glorious degree. What wonder!

Creeping slowly upon the sleeping, the unawares, effectual time comes inevitably knocking on our door seeking recompense. Karma in it’s insistence on becoming real nourishes us with it’s delectable delights and yet we always seems to mourn it’s arrival. Swinging both ways it has it’s way with us time and time again. Living the lie, we bed with the best and brightest ensuring that our needs come to be met with the full force of it all. Gazing and enjoying our dream-like state, we slowly move through life and living engaging that which we have no control over as our past (mis)deeds rue the day. Life takes it’s toll and strangely enough we seem to carry our baggage with glee happily moving through life oblivious of not only our own true nature but of the reality which we simply cannot escape. Running on empty we run even further in the hopes and dreams of living the good life. Gazing at the stars, we weep all the while becoming engrossed in the reflection of ourselves upon the canvas of reality which we have already taken great pride in full-filling.

So where does this tempting tale of woe, of pain and suffering take us? Is there more to life and living than just the emotional turmoil we seem to be forever engaged in? Why is it that we seem to concentrate so diligently upon the scales of justice which have swung so far away from our foundational being and into the stratospheric realms of ‘cause and effect’? Why do we concentrate upon the urgent need to have the scale swing the other way towards a happiness which has a reality only in relation to our own personal suffering? Swinging to and fro the scales vibrate with empathy in complete harmony to our ‘state of mind’. We create the world in our own image and immediately turn around to relinquish responsibility so that perpetuity may result. Running, we are sure to compel the tiger to chase us. Running from ourselves certainly is good exercise but what’s the point?

Quietly, silently, mute. The reign of terror slowly comes to an end and what remains then is a silence deafening in it’s display of creation. As all things shout from the very bottom of their being, “I live!” so too does the end of the reign of terror which Man obligingly unleashed upon the destitute and dying. Now that the zombies are being put to bed, what then?

What then will become unleashed upon those poor souls whose only wish is to make it to the next birth alive and if lucky, just a bit less burdened in the baggage department. But that is another chapter due to the print factory at some later date as yet undisclosed.

Along with the therapy of self-reflection along comes a spider to inject it’s prey with but another small dose of nullifying poison. Scrambling for peace can only hasten the poison’s effects until and at long last, the fitful sleep of pain and anguish comes to yet onemore close. Though the washing machine plays out each spin cycle with the utmost of disregard, the clothes eventually comes out clean.

Coming to the water’s edge we bait the hook to see what will come our way today. Eagerly awaiting the purpose of life we sit for a spell and gaze into the far reaches of our imagination, seeking and yearning for the thing which exists just out of range - just out of the reach of our grasping and clutching hands. As we extend our attention beyond, we travel to the far reaches of space - and beyond.

Eventually we reach the boundaries of our existence and venture no further.

Reaching this stage in our evolutionary process takes a lot of time which of course requires an enormous amount of effort. Fishing is a sport after all and requires the exchange of experience, one upon the other.

Pinpointing our movement, we begin to rearrange the universe to our liking barely realizing that we have already done so. As we stare at the reflections upon the water of life we miss many a fish. It seems that there are much more than simply the one that got away.

Sneaking up on ourselves we tend to pretend that we are something other than what we really are and in this pretension our foundational sense of being does not go away but becomes muted and reworked into being something completely different. As we separate our selves into the various parts of recognition we come to learn that in the loss of wholeness we become and in this narrow focus of attention we create the life we lead.

Creating a life and death experience in which to full-fill our goal of completion we eke out an existence time and time again ever yearning for complete understanding. Is one to understand the totality in which we find purpose and plan? Can one?

In creating individuality with which to pursue our many adventures we ultimately find that experience comes to take highest precedence. We are because we have created it to be so and in our selfish pride all that we seeis me and oh what a beautiful sight are we! Through our own eyes we reign supreme as being the single most important thing in the Universe. Standing firm, we boldly go where no thought has gone before and as we fill up the echo chamber with our noise, we come to find meaning. Hearing ourselves think, our universe becomes populated with all that we desire.