Boasting of The Timeline
Working in secret there are no secrets and so when the word comes down the pike who is it that gives and receives? Dastardly deeds never go unpunished and yet the few remain. In confusion the scattering of the winds forces us all to look anew at the weather patterns of old. Here and there the stage props begin to fade and crumble revealing yet another facet of Man's attempts at ruling the Universe.
There are no rulers and the Universe doesn't exist.
As the blind lead the blind all become astray and gaze upon the wonder of it all. Questioning the confusion which way is really up? Which way do the winds blow so that we may ride alongside the 'winning' race horse and thereupon collect on our position. In battling the forces of opposition we remain unstable upon the teeter tottering balance of to and fro. Does balance really require a roller coaster ride?
There are always changes afoot along with the shifting of perspectives. What once was old is always new and the timelines requires emptying the trash along the way. Digging deeper in the human discard one can surely come up full and complete - or so the hope of perpetuity beckons. Hearing the call the stampede endures until the long lost son arrives. Is the folly the one who wishes for fishes or the one who gives in the asking. If not a one knows the question what then of the answers awaiting it's time, it's place upon the stage of ill repute.
An audience is always captivated by drama.
Spearheading a romp in the jungle the natives always come up empty and yet begin the search again and again in dreamtime. Wondering in conviction nothing is ever found and yet life presents itself for the taking - thank god! But in thanking the law-giver the attention relieves us of the duty to search and destroy our own responsibilities. As the pebble affects the pond we are the ripple in life ever moving outward. Surely one day the edge of existence will become known.
It never will.
With an outward glance all becomes as it is and in motion we find being. Running the treadmill called time we exercise our right to live. Death does not become us. Oh how the wicked do play but the treadmill must surely be better than the hamster wheel of life and living. No matter which way the wheel turns it becomes our turn. Running flat out will definitely get us nowhere very, very fast. But that is the point is it not?
Getting nowhere using the most direct route possible.
The results are now in and it is looking very positive. We are now at the place where nowhere really matters. It matters to such a degree that in the shifting of the timeline the crowds cheer and roar in it's pleasure of the drama of it all. Yes, it is indeed a captivated audience - except for those few amongst the pile of humanity who look out upon the ocean of time and space and see that nothing ever changes in the well worn and torn script of life and living.
We have arrived right were we should be and if that doesn't bring a smile upon your human factor then perhaps a little more sleep is in order.
See also: Eating Out With Egg On Our Face.