Tracking The Scent Of Man

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?

Listening to the wind we shiver with the coldness of our hearts both beating to a different drummer. Where one has the answer the other the question and never shall the two meet, at least in theory!

Dispensing with the rest we do nothing but ingest. Drinking in the waters of life and living we dive deep never coming up for air. What could the purpose be of air when the deeps invite us so?

Struggling to maintain balance we fall with grace and pick ourselves up by the nape of the neck and struggle yet again to achieve the fall. Basking in the glory of what should be we tightly close our eyes to all else lest we shall become convinced that something more than ourselves is in the room. Baring our breast we expose our hearts and then continue to dream up another chapter in the woes of life and living. Seeing naught we become seen and yet nothing of value remains. Cloaking ourselves in our finest dress we pompously leave tracks all across the universe in our quest to be the one. Standing guard over our grave do we ultimately redefine our senses to include any sense at all?

Through thick and thin we find a use for our perception little realizing what arrives. In capturing our essence we do indeed capture nothing and as we come up empty handed thoughts wander into the stability of rigidity. With a keen eye the hunter reveals the prey. With a keen eye nothing goes unnoticed.

With a keen eye no action remains unfull-filled.

Gazing upon the face of Creation we tend to remain moot until we purposefully shake our head in order to regain consciousness, to regain the value of being one thing or another. My what a lovely sight and we are it!

Dusting off the costumes of old we enter each and every one convinced that we are. Acting with conviction we remain convicted until the zipper is pulled and we detach. Striding down memory lane we relive destiny over and over again until the crowds thin. Bowing to no one we take our leave contented that we have seen it through as we make our way next door to Act II and III and...

Gazing at the stars we fly through the heavens in search of something, _any_thing. Struggling to stand with reality we find it. Struggling to keep the dream alive it becomes so. Struggling, we find the pain and sorrow of the reward of being born time and time again. Ever onward we fall down the rabbit hole feverishly digging out the bottom so as not to land. In inheriting the Earth we take comfort of possession and lay claim to all the benefits of creation. As we are just our rightness exemplifies our high status and so we take no responsibility to dirty our cloaks with. Engaging in dialogue we weep as our hearts pour forth.

In becoming less of one thing or another our true nature draws consciousness to it's door and knocks.

Who is your Master? Who or what do you serve?

Surely it is something other than the idea you uphold as your self. Surely there is something more than the shallow convictions of living the dream of the life experience. Surely there is something which drives one's consciousness and propels it out into the universe in order to fully find and clearly define being.

Perhaps it's like the car keys. Always in the last place one looks.

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