The things locked away in universes. Distances in which we have traversed span farther than the reach of normal mortal men. Who is to say we are not normal? I guess-as we know ourselves best-we are. We are not normal and we are growing in multitudes. These things are going in circles. Like bits of data swirling down a tube vacuumed by pressure and gravity. Until they disappear from us to appear as if they were going in circles somewhere else.
Yes, the typical house contains all of these words-and more. It does not mean to. They are not in text but rather spoken to the next of kin. Father, Mother, Child each one shedding skin and pushing out the door old deaths and welcoming prosperity and new growths. The division of life and circles can only last so long, it has been told to us by the wizened. Long ago the wizened thought “we are not so wise, look at the wizened of previous times.”
Golden Ages with Holy Sages; sacraments placed at the end of dripping tongues speaking the text of the next year. Shamans are burning away at the husks of the last year. We meet in the middle with the expectation and expression of a synthesized new beginning.
Can you have only one beginning?
The weirdly wizened questioned-wired to the subconscious mass, its tendrils reaching out for new nodes of knowledge. All of this, these things locked away in boxes… tiny universes. It spirals and spins when it needs to and circles when it must. Each of us-normal, mortal, wizened and weird- are asking and pleading for the eventual end of reincarnation. Please stop this mad wheel, halt this spinning disk.
Is it worth the risk to dive or should we continue on with this drive?
I say yes. The thirst to know shall never be sated. Creativity shall never be sedated.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
yes, no, good, junk?