Greetings all on this warm day and the sun is certainly rising high already. I'm preparing for a few days at the Shakra Centre, ready to assist as best I can. Anyway, first up let's share the love and kudos with Anna, Jo and Rae for kindly taking the time to read my post and offering comments/shares.
What comes to me today is the aspect of well, talking to yourself. There are times when you put stuff together and send it out and your response is well, negligible. We live in odd times that's for sure. I can guarantee you now, if I were to put together a trippy video featuring a mouse singing I love vanilla ice cream on top of an erupting volcano it'd probably get quite a response. However, put together a few written words and it turns into t u m b l e w e e d moments.
This is the state of things right now and is this really for the better? It takes me back to 1984 and Nuspeak where the dumbing down of everyone takes place and it's on fast forward right now. When I look to our venal leaders gorging themselves on others misery and ready to cause total mayhem in the months ahead, you can't help think that something's very wrong. In the months ahead it's going to get ugly and I do see social strife, protests and crime on the way although I am always hopeful that things will change sooner rather than later.
At times, we will feel cut off, almost invisible whilst the world keeps on turning. I say to you then, keep going and keep faith with yourself. It can be hard and it's oh so easy to throw yourself down to the ground, give up, wither away and be forgotten. We've all had those moments and especially so at the moment. There is love our there for us all and if we can keep ourselves moving forward in whatever way is right for us. If you're on the ground, wondering why, then remember how far you've come and how far you will go. Sometimes though, we need a breather to stoke our energy and come again. We will prevail. Remember everyone, keep reading
Oh, and here's a surreal dystopian poem...
Uncast
I see a great pattern
To which I am part
Yet shield me from
Tremulous discord
Of all others
Sometimes, I wish
This wasn’t here
Or I never was
In this cold space lies
A vast vacuum
Who none ever knew
Except as dead sense
Gone, in a moment
Of eternal deletion
Backspace, no space
Who is O?
Omnipotence spirals
Devouring, instigating choirs
Of apathetic dissonance
I am nought?
A zero, inconsequential
To fold, unravel
In a slither of obedience
In dismal piety
Wish removal?
Never.
To the bindwall
I will go.
That’s it, sweet Zee
Of binary vision
Stay in the satin
Of unctuous skulls
Where I sought
A calm freedom
Now perceive
I am aberrant
The sanctity of death
Will cast me
To them again
In a curse of creation
Reinstated.
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