Stepping up we take root and sometimes when we get lucky enough we catch the wave. Surfing through time and space, it’s usually a good idea to don what is appropriate for the occasion. Must we not look astonishingly proper and fit while hanging ten? Standing out in a crowd of unbelievers is not something that I would want to take to the bank but for those suicidal enough, make sure to carry a big enough stick to fend off the little fishies as those big ones take much more than a little whack to the head in order to see the light.1
There have been a few things previously written here about catching the wave. You know, it’s that tiny little thing that shakes the universe to it’s core by picking reality up by it’s shoulders and shaking the hell out of it. Who wouldn’t notice that, right?2
Since I’m not here and I don’t do anything you can count on me to be completely and utterly clueless and devoid of purpose, meaning and a complete waste of biological fluids congealed into some hideous reflection of what lies on the other end of that silver thread.3
Some day I think that I will wake up to the fact of my own existence but since I don’t believe in miracles all the talk of the town comes down to nothing but gossip. My wish on a lazy sunny Sunday afternoon is for the love of god, will somebody start up a sewing club for the old, useless, and well-worn Masters of the Universe who can’t seem to remember history, any history and by so doing have created for themselves a time-loop in which their own greatness supersedes their own stupidity thereby enlightening and brightening their day over and over again. Power is never taken and can only be granted by that which eludes the conscious mind of an authority which only exists in the mind of Man.4
What’s the point of this you ask.
The point has and always will be is this: I am not here and you do not see me.5
In closing I’d like to say that surfing is awesome. I get to ride the moonbeams and be in the forefront, on the very edge of a matrix that is always awesome in it’s own right. Sometimes the shallows can be treacherous and the undertow, yeah the undertow…That takes skill, dexterity and an awareness of that which is much, much greater than one’s puny self.
Maybe that is it. I am not here and you do not see me because what you are looking at ain’t the big picture but simply an impressionist painting hanging before you on the wall of your cell. It’s been said that it helps to settle the mind but lots has been said to absolutely no avail.
I am here and it is true that you see me.
That is one convoluted highway filled with twists and turns. Maybe it’s better left for dead in some deep dark alley where no one ventures. Oh wait… I just got word that deep dark alleyways have been privatized and therefore that No Trespassing sign, the one lit up with neon lights and showgirls, should not be ignored. I suppose it helps the denizens feel ‘safe’ but since I’m the bearer of bad news go ahead and do that pesky body in. I’m sure that it would make things soooo much smoother. Why the hesitation? ↩
Waking from nappy time it’s proper to say… “Wha… what’s going on. Did I miss anything?” ↩
I’m not quite a proponent of that ‘silver thread’ thing but it does resonate with some, so Dorothy go ahead and follow that brick road. ↩
It takes a lot of effort to cure insanity but luckily I don’t have that job. Well, come to think of it, never mind. ↩
That’s not really the point but it does make for a good contemplation moment. It’s like being in an old dark and silent spooky house when an unexpected noise is heard behind you. What’s that!?, you pensively utter. Don’t worry. It’s just me saying that I’m not here and you can’t see me. ↩