The world is a vast place. Filled with darkness and light, treachery and sweet surprise. Among the people of the world one can hope to find few who will honor friendship and ideals congruent with your own. Largely, the world is populated by animals.
Hungry animals that feed on the truth and shit lies like rain drops. But if you are so blessed as to find people of your ilk, hold on to them.
I have spun around the sun fewer times than some I call friend and more than some of those by the same name. Young or old, friends are more valuable than money.
Acquaintances abound in this vast and inspiring jungle. Be wary, but walk with an open heart. The next acquaintance could be the next friend, or the next meal, depending on your disposition.
DO NOT EAT YOUR FRIENDS.
The meal may be satisfying but at some point your world will acknowledge the void and come looking for you to account for it. I have never eaten a friend and in my opinion I have never taken advantage of one either.
Gilgamesh suffered at the hands of a fate he had no destiny to avoid. He died, as we all must die.
The truth in life is that it is transitory. Dare I say that life is a dream and death its alarm clock. Sleep is the one luxury in life that is taken for granted. In it, we die a little and in it we truly live, boundless of the mortal coil.
I want to sleep and wake at the same time, it is the paradox of my existence.
WE ARE ELECTRICITY FLOWING THROUGH THE LINES. BOUND UP IN INSULATION THAT CONTAINS US, SHAPES US AND FORCES US ONWARD TO OUR DESTINATION.
I am electric power wrapped in sinew, flesh and bone. Like the power in the line I am destined to bring to life some great achievement of man be it a light bulb or a computer or even a dish washer propagating modern convenience. I am electric power fueling the machine which is my body and mind.
Electricity is the soul, the body is the machine, the brain is a processor that allows interaction with the physical world around me.
So who made who, as the song goes? Am I a man because my function propagates that which is? Am I a man so that the world can go on being the world?
Or am I a man so that the world can become more than it is now? Does the universe need something new to define itself, am I a creative part of the universal machine, or am I a maintainer of that which is? Am I a caretaker who's point in life is to keep things as they are?
AND WHAT OF YOU DEAR READER?
Why are you here? Are you managing your ends and contributing to the whole by way of maintenance? Or do you have a creative part to play?
I have always thought of things in black and white terms you see, and yet I have touted myself as a poly-ist and not a mono-ist. But here as you read I am asking you which are you, black or white? Such is the nature of living at the end of the cycle. I am all that has come before and I am what is to be after the end.
LIFE ON A SPINNING COIN?
I urge you not to decide but to simply accept. You are a steadfast, dear reader, one that exists in the flux of the universe as it becomes something else. If black appeals to you then accept it, if white appeals to you then accept it. But know this, at some point one or the other has to end. Unless I am wrong. But you will never know, and frankly neither will I.
As for my part, I have lit the candle at both ends. I maintain the old and bring in the new and urge you to choose nothing and simply accept the rising sun because even if you don't, it will still rise.
No questions now, it is simply what I do.
WHEN THE FLAMES MEET I WILL BE CONSUMED LIKE THE DRINK AT LAST CALL.
Until then keep your friends close and your enemies closer and for all that is, KEEP THE ANIMALS AT BAY.
music: More Than Comprehended- Judge Wooly