POETRY & MORE
MY SURMISE
Shores abound deep spirit ties,
Fading in from waking eyes.
Hidden beauty without disguise,
As waves of wonder crash and rise.
Doth by reason on surface cries,
Tides of pity pools despise.
Stormy waters fear demise,
Sunlight beaming to the wise.
Chase gives way expanding skies,
From hither to all within that lies.
THE UNKNOWN HERO
Among several indifferent faces,
Through thousands and thousands of years,
Is a face of faces in different places,
With eyes that gleam from a dream without fears.
Alone in the night, he looks at the sky,
A wandering child with a curious mind,
He begins to ponder, to wonder why,
An answer to which he cannot find.
What is the purpose, what is the cause?
What is the reason that life exists?
His thoughts were soaring, never to pause,
Like endless space his mind persists.
As many meaningful years go by,
He finds what he has been looking for,
The meaning of life, of how and why,
Which inspires desires to know even more.
And so lives on, the unknown hero,
Unknown by virtue of an unheard voice,
And so lives on, the unknown hero,
A hero by virtue of conscious choice.
He tries to find an inspiring mind,
A lonely search from a soul that's weary,
To discover a lover, profound and kind,
And free his soul from a toll that's dreary.
In life itself he sees much beauty,
With happiness bound by integrity,
Ethical choice he considers a duty,
With knowledge, wisdom, and humility.
Staying humble and appearing silent,
The meaning of life he cannot give,
Life goes on both peaceful and violent,
The unknown hero to forever live.
And so lives on, the unknown hero,
Unknown by virtue of an unheard voice,
And so lives on, the unknown hero,
A hero by virtue of conscious choice.
Truthful thoughts in a genuine mind,
Has given to him his every insight,
Ignored by most whereby loneliness bind,
With dreams in sight from a mind in flight.
A thought has brought what he has sought,
An awareness that you must learn to know,
Knowing the truth must be self-taught,
And so lives on the unknown hero.
"PROUFOUND & SIMPLE"
I wrote a good book with a deeper look on the essential nature of existence.
It proves without a doubt that the truth throughout is absolute and makes perfect sense.
Called "Profound & Simple" with expressions abound that resound and ripple in the silent echoes of reality.
Read it and see and I think you'll agree, all that is and will ever be is in a timeless dance of eternity...
ONE HAND CLAPPING
Hypothetical Q & A on my "Profound & Simple" book
Q: What is your book about and what should the reader gain from it?
A: The essential nature of existence. Learning to distinguish perception from actuality relative to the accuracy of how reality is being represented. Wisdom is the key to happiness. If you go against the truth, it will, by your own choice, enslave you to endless misery and confusion; if you go with it, it will set you free.
Q: What is truth?
A: All of that which is true. The nature of truth is such that it must be absolute, if it were not then it would not be truth.
Q: Do you believe in God?
A: I believe in God as truth; not as the creator, but as the energy of everything which is everywhere, absolute, and eternal.
Q: Why do we exist?
A: Our existence was made possible by the acquisition of life which came about by the angular momentum of particles of matter due from their variances in size and density. The purpose of our existence is to live according to our own nature as determined by the aspects of both our physiological and spiritual being.
Q: Did existence come from nothing?
A: No, nothing came from nothing because nothing does not exist.
Q: Where did existence come from?
A: Everywhere.
Q: Why does existence exist?
A: Because it does, it has to since nothing cannot exist.
Q: Why is there matter?
A: Because corporeal substance is the essential counter to the void of non-existence.
Q: What is existence?
A: Everything.
Q: What is everything?
A: All of that which exists.
Q: What is nothing?
A: The sound of one hand clapping.
PROOF OF EXISTENCE
Existence is the ultimate self-evident realm of everything void of nothing. Knowledge and understanding from experience, perceptual awareness, conceptual analysis, and self-awareness; all together comprise the conscious effort in coming to know that existence exists because it must. I exist to know that I must exist, which I brought to my awareness from all of my objective and introspective observations based on truth as absolute, and all of my experiences as real. Such experiences of philosophic contemplation and how they relate to existence in a conscious awareness of self and physical reality become known in the state of eternal being as self-evident. Awareness, like experience, can now be seen as both a condition on to itself and an integral part of being or else it would not exist.
Therefore, existence itself must exist in order for me to exist to have these considerations whether alone or in discussions with others within the framework of existence. If such a discourse were to ever occur outside of existence, then it would never occur at all, but the fact it does occur proves that it exists, which further proves that existence exists; eternally. In other words, the proof is in the pudding.
DOES OR DOES NOT
It's important to distinguish between abstraction (concepts, emotions, symbolism) as a real form of energy, the identity of what it claims to represent, and whether what it says to exist actually exists as it is described, or if it exists at all. In other words, a real thought either accurately or inaccurately describes what is actually there; or what it describes isn't there at all. There is no other option. Either something exists as it does, or it does not exist.
IDENTITY & FUNCTION
It's obvious to me that what something is is determined by what actually is. However, how it is identified can either accurately or inaccurately reflect the purpose of its existence, i.e., if it has a particular function, it should be in line with its identity. Taking that into consideration begs the question, does identity determine function, or does function determine identity? Take, for example, the purpose of a plyer is to establish a firm grip that would otherwise be impractical and/or unsafe to just use with your hands. If you were to use a plyer to pound a nail, in that moment, would that make it a hammer? Of course not, but you could call it a hammer just as you could call anything, anything you want. Or would turning a screw with a coin consequently make it a screwdriver? In effect, you have, yet that is not the integral purpose of a coin regardless of what you use it for. It is intended as a means of material trade. A cardboard box is typically used to contain material items, but you could break them down and build a makeshift shelter for a homeless person to live in. Numerous examples of things being used for many different uses in endless creative ways can make it confusing to determine this identity and function dichotomy. Examining each consideration separate from the other can help you to make a definitive determination. Let's say that function determines identity. You could then say that a coin is a screwdriver when you use it as such, which would force you to ignore what it actually is within itself. If you say that identity determines function, you could still use the coin as a screwdriver, but you would still call it what it actually is, a coin. By that standard, breaking down cardboard boxes to build a shelter would lead you to conclude that you've effectively changed the identity until you use them for either storage or for building a shelter. It would seem to me to be less confusing to simply identify them as boxes regardless of what you use them for. Things are what they are in and of themselves and can function more properly when used for what they are intended, even if something functions just as well for something outside of the integrity of its identity, it still remains what it materially is regardless of if it's been modified or changed to the extent that it changes its original identity. Given that identity remains constant as what it is or what it becomes as still having identity, and that function is more fluid in that you can use almost anything for multiple purposes, then identity is predominantly foundational. Therefore, identity determines function.
WHAT IS IT?
Is it love, or is it pain? I see a dove; it begins to rain.
Is it good, or is it bad? You can or should, be it happy or sad.
Is it real, or is it fake? I feel as I feel; is that a mistake?
Is it right, or is it wrong? We need not fight, as I sing this song.
Is it what it is, or what we make of it? If it is what it is, then what is it?
Is it heaven, or is it hell? It's number seven, it's just as well.
Is it light, or is it dark? It is in sight, if you see the mark.
Is it silence, or is it noise? I hear the violence, so hold your poise.
Is it solid, or is it space? The atoms are hid, just find their place.
Is it what it is, or what you make of it? If it is what it is, then what is it?
Is it crazy, or is it sane? If we can be free, without all the pain.
Is it life, or is it death? It cuts like a knife, it breaths the final breath.
Is it true, or is it not? The sky is blue, is death the plot?
Is it fun, or is it boring? Have I won, who is scoring?
Is it what it is, or what you make of it? If it is what it is, then what is it?
Is it peace, or is it war? It'll never cease, so what's it for?
Is it sex, or is it violence? It may be a hex; does it make sense?
Is it kind, or is it mean? It's in your mind, dirty or clean.
Is it joy, or is it sorrow? Feelings to ploy, with no tomorrow.
Is it what it is, or what you make of it? If it is what it is, then what is it?
Is it skinny, or is it fat? It's all and any, it's just like that.
Is it shallow, or is it deep? See its echo, from level to steep.
Is it short, or is it tall? It's every sort, it's wall to wall.
Is it here, or is it there? Have a good cheer, it's everywhere.
Is it what it is, or what you make of it? If it is what it is, then what is it?
Is it close, or is it far? Take a good look, see where you are.
Is it up, or is it down? Don't be a pup, look all around.
Is it high, or is it low? It'll pass you by, if you let it go.
Is it this, or is it that? It can't miss, see where it's at.
Is it what it is, or what you make of it? If it is what it is, then what is it?
A PARADISE FOUND
Words flying off keys like birds from trees, tell of a story.
A journey of glory with tears and pain through the years I gain a joy and pride from deep inside.
A silence has come as a resounding sound within my soul as it was profound, to finally see and truly be free in a paradise found.
What is it and where, when, why and how? Here and there, then and now,
contentment within a world of sin.
Falling and slipping I answer a calling to the gripping darker side of vice.
Cometh afflictions of binding addictions with refusal and denial putting my soul on trial and I sought no help.
A love so great and rare now lost, leaving me alone to wait and dare to date and hope for love to repair my tattered soul.
My soul once pure is perhaps I fear forever jaded from the toll of evil traps set in the society of man.
Alas is this world amass with violence and corruption, yet in the silence come an eruption, waking my soul to the infinite.
Ideas flowing from an inner knowing are always forming the stories and concepts like on steps ascending to virtue.
Creative expression in philosophic meter do I write to live in spite of depression from another profession retarding my dreams.
Life, made to seem unfair by fading dreams, still I do declare a secret place of mine.
A place unbound without the vice of guilt or fear; hence I make it clear that the silence I hear is the eternal sound of a paradise found.
THE TRUE VICTOR
Oh, dare thee who so boldly challenges me, for bolder a soul I be over thee.
Thy taketh away from thyself and expose the falsehood of thine's pride.
By my own courage and wisdom of truth I will be set free and never from truth will I hide.
To this my conviction I know I must adhere, thereby to allow by way of honor a life sincere.
Yae, though ye unworthy soul intend to prove right by way of thine's might.
Thy will only fall to despair and ruin by thine's own fearful disposition even if victor in battle, for truth be not changed and might not make right.
Be it better to lose in a bloody battle with integrity than to win and not know why.
For the true victor be the soul of whom to the truth thy does see and live by.
BY CHOICE OR BY CHOOSING NOT
What is it that makes one in the position of Thy's ambitions?
Is it not merely by one's own convictions that determines Thy's decisions?
Yeigh, though lowly man may seem to be in his foolish acts of destruction.
The sword of Thy's enemies may strike at will, but to what is owed to the source of its blows?
When man becometh his own enemy may it seem in vain to enjoy the fruits of life.
For what life is worth living if all is ended by its own hand?
Perhaps hope itself is owed to Thy's own ability to ponder such thoughts.
Blessed is the mind so great in its creative will, though mysterious in its will to create not.
Perhaps the soul of Thy's mind by its origin is pure, to wit its corruption does what to it owe?
Arise does conflicts of principles and intent, to the or away from the truth by opinions are driven.
Honor by right though Thy's might is not it only.
How lonely is thy noble man to whom so few of truth does he see?
Yet truth be the foe of Thy's only enemy forthright with fear does it stem.
Claim the foe of no fault but time and place of birth does he.
For be it not Thy's own choice of fate but for that of how to live.
Thus, by choice does life thy enjoy, or by choosing not thy not does.
ALONE
Alone I'm alive, alone I conceal.
Alone I survive, alone I reveal.
Alone I cry, alone I can see.
Alone I try, alone I'm free.
Alone I have fun, alone I fly.
Alone I run, alone I die.
WHY
I am I, you are you, see the sky, it is blue.
I am I, you are you, I will die, and so will you.
IT
It will tell, where you fell.
It will say, the time of day.
It will try, until you die.
It will see, the way to be.
It will go, let it know.
It will start, from your heart.
It will hate, do not wait.
It will love, you're the dove.
It will win, time to begin.
It will feel, what's the deal?
It will end, that's the trend.
ANSWER?
When I see you, I can see me,
When you see me too, what do you see?
I often see a person, who's in confusion,
It might even worsen, what's your conclusion?
For to me, life is.., is what? - You may ask,
Find the right quiz, acceptance is the task.
REVEAL AND CONCEAL
Open the door, open your heart,
Close the door, not too smart.
Open the door, love me too,
Close the door, leave me blue.
Open the door, use your brain,
Close the door, become insane.
A PLAY OF A PLAYWRIGHT'S PLAY
Characters in the Play
WILL?: Narrator [never on stage, always out of his mind]
KATRINA: Playwright? [mathematical genius with a foot fetish]
ADAM: Playwright? [made of antimatter from a parallel universe]
MICHAEL: Playwright? [fails miserably at impersonating himself]
JASON: Playwright? [working undercover for alien transvestites]
A Silly Prelude
WILL?
Welcome, my friends, to the world-famous Guthrie theatre in the great city of Minneapolis. We bring here before you our humble little play, but very unique it truly is. Our cast, four aspiring playwrights playing young college students in the setting of a small classroom, trying to perform a play for an assignment on discussing the craft of playwriting. The author, yours truly, once obscurely lost has found this place at this moment of time, all be it however insignificant as a speck within the spectrum of eternal existence. 'Thoughts, feelings, actions, words, reflections of silent echoes forever resonating throughout the great expanse of this universe, somehow finding its way to the human experience of self-actualized conscious being. Thus, may our performance today rise in parallel with universal truth and be made worthy of this magnificent stage, engaging by hope or desperate plea in earnest to the aesthetics of life and with our other selves, you, the audience, gain the deepest affection. If we can be so honored by this achievement, we shall, with all of our hearts and souls, Yeigh from the very essence of our beings, in our eternal gratitude be forever convinced that you must be at least as crazy as we are.
ONE ACT
One Scene
Enter no one. Michael is pacing back and forth while reading from a copy of the script. Each of the other three characters are also holding a copy from which they read while sitting behind a table.
MICHAEL:
Dog gone it! It's just not working. Not working at all anymore.
ADAM:
What's not?
MICHAEL:
Oh, this miserable character's dialogue. I can't seem to keep it both lively and realistic, while making it be consistent with both his psychological profile and the natural flow of the plot.
KATRINA:
Well at least you have a plot. I can't like, come up with anything.
ADAM:
And I seem to be stuck in the mud, so to speak. It's like the more I try, the faster I spin my wheels, which only digs me deeper into a hole I can't get out of.
KATRINA:
I wish I even had some mud to like, get stuck in, actually.
MICHAEL: [very loud]
Damn! Sorry. It just simply will, not, work.
[Michael stops pacing and sits down while quietly muttering to himself]
JASON:
Not that I want to make you guys feel bad, but I just finished a rough draft.
ADAM:
Hey, I think I found it. No, no. Ah! Who am I trying to kid but myself.
JASON:
There's your start.
KATRINA:
What, nothingness?
JASON:
Well, yeah. An abyss. Imagine it. Imagine something, or someone materializing from it. Naked. Pure. What would it be? Develop a new character and build a story around his or qualities. Or think of a familiar occurrence and develop a character from that, which in turn further develops the story.
KATRINA:
Yeah, yeah. What, ever!
[beat]
KATRINA:
Hey, I got it! Since like, we're all kinda having problems with our own scripts, except for Jason, the creative genius, maybe we should, like, collaborate.
ADAM:
Do you care to, elucidate?
MICHAEL:
Or how 'bout to, exfoliate?
KATRINA:
Very funny. No really. I mean, actually, we could like, all come up with something together.
JASON:
Oh no, not me. I'm a true playwright. I work alone.
KATRINA:
Oh yea? How 'bout guys like Sam Shepard, Edward Albee, and George C. Wolfe, who like wrote from watching rehearsals? Or like even Michael Christopher and Tennessee Williams, who have actually acted in rehearsals to like, come up with their scripts?
JASON:
But that's not exactly what you're talking about having us do. Besides, those are a few exceptions.
KATRINA:
So shall we be [chuckles]. I mean, like, we'll write a great play together, get our names out there, and like, well, actually, it could be a great steppingstone.
MICHAEL:
Yea, right.
ADAM:
Oh, you're always so negative.
MICHAEL:
It comes with the territory.
ADAM:
No, you create the territory.
KATRINA:
Stop it you guys, I'm serious.
MICHAEL:
So, you have an idea for a story?
KATRINA:
Well, actually, yes.
MICHAEL:
Well, actually, what is it?
KATRINA:
Well, it's like, well, this may seem kinda corny. But I was thinking what would be kinda cool, like say if it were about a group of playwrights performing in a play, acting as a group of young college students doing a play about playwrights discussing the various aspects of playwrighting.
JASON:
All of the sudden, in the last part of that last sentence you just spoke, it didn't quite sound like you. As though you stepped out of your character.
ADAM:
That's right, it's important to maintain characterization consistency.
[everyone freezes but Adam]
WILL?:
Well, I'd like to see you do any better.
ADAM:
Oh gee, I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. Besides, I could've done better if you would've let the rest of us in the group write some of the dialogue.
WILL?:
Nah, nah, nah-nah, nah! Ha-ha, too bad!
[resume action]
ADAM:
So, what you're talking about is sort of a school project?
[Katrina nods]
JASON:
Oh, that's a bit too much, don't you think?
KATRINA:
No, not really. I think it would be actually kinda cool, actually.
JASON:
Well, it is unique.
KATRINA:
And it's not like we can't trust each other. You know, as far as collecting royalties in a sorta even one-quarter each.
ADAM:
Listen to you. Already talking about royalties before the play is even fully conceived.
KATRINA:
It does help that we're close friends.
MICHAEL:
Alright, alright. Suppose we all go along with this crazy scheme of yours, where would we start?
KATRINA:
I don't know. Let's just start by pretending we're students discussing playwriting.
MICHAEL:
Let's not and say we did.
JASON:
I'll take notes.
ADAM:
I suppose these students would talk about things they would read out of a textbook. Like how one becomes a playwright. Attending drama schools, acting, directing, observing rehearsals. Learning everything one can about plays.
JASON:
And doing a lot of writing.
MICHAEL:
I doubt they would get that from a textbook. It's too common sensible.
[Katrina starts writing something]
JASON:
Hey, what's that you're writing? I thought I was taking notes.
KATRINA:
You are. I just thought of this idea.
MICHAEL:
What idea?
KATRINA:
I don't know.
MICHAEL:
You don't know?
KATRINA:
Well, I do know, but it's like, if I tell you now, you won't like it, actually.
MICHAEL:
How do you know I won't like it? Let's hear it.
KATRINA:
Let's not and say we did. [chuckles] No really, trust me, you definitely will not like it. Besides, everyone knows that Mikee won't like it, he hates everything.
MICHAEL:
Ha-ha, very funny.
ADAM:
I've got to admit, you've got me curious.
JASON:
Me too.
KATRINA:
Forget it you guys, I'm not gonna tell you.
JASON:
Awe, come on.
ADAM:
Yeah, be a sport.
MICHAEL:
Don't be a chicken.
KATRINA:
I'm not, but you're a sissy la-la. No way, forget it. You'll just have to wait.
JASON:
Do it. Do it! Katrina! Katrina!
JASON & ADAM [chant simultaneously]
Katrina! Katrina! Katrina! Katrina!
MICHAEL:
Alright, alright already! [drops his hands] You win. We'll wait. Boy, I thought I was stubborn. I'm gonna take a break.
[Michael walks from the table to the chair in a nearby corner of the room.
Katrina goes back to writing]
ADAM:
Back to the matter at hand, so to speak. I think it's going to be difficult to discuss the skillful artistry of playwriting without making it look too contrived.
JASON:
Yeah, that's right. It needs to flow naturally. To be both spontaneous and immediate.
ADAM:
Notwithstanding allusive complexity. That is to say, creating metaphoric implication, descriptive precision, and poetic imagery with verbal rhythms and textures.
JASON:
That's good for a strong dramatic effect. Maybe we should make it more of a comedy.
ADAM:
Now I don't see how we could do that.
[everyone freezes]
WILL?:
What is the law?
[resume action]
MICHAEL [still sitting in corner]
What about plot, theme, and conflict? This play has no substance!
KATRINA:
Well, there's your conflict.
MICHAEL:
Where? You mean in my arguing that there is no conflict?
KATRINA:
A paradox. Thank you, you've like helped me find a paradox. A conflict, with like having no conflict.
MICHAEL:
Who cares?
KATRINA:
It's like, actors have been given paradoxes, but not us playwrights. I've like always wanted a paradox, now thanks to you I've finally got one.
MICHAEL:
Now I know you're crazy.
KATRINA:
We like also need to keep in mind that our script doesn't have to look good on paper, actually. It's like, what is important is that the actors and directors give a convincing performance, with what they like have to work with.
MICHAEL:
Yeah, but they have to have something tangible to work with. Awe, never mind. I'm going back to sleep.
KATRINA:
Of course, like, presentation. That's important. It's like the inference of the inner story, and like the psychology of the characters along with the author's point of view, that's us actually, must like be there without it being directly noticed from like, outward appearances, but actually by what they see from like the play's events.
ADAM:
You mean what the characters are really like, and the story's meaning must be shown by what the characters actually do, how they do it, what they say, how they say it, and how the story unfolds?
KATRINA:
Yeah, that's it. It's like it would give it more social impact.
[everyone freezes]
WILL?:
A little sloppy, but interesting technique.
[resume action]
KATRINA:
About making it into a comedy. It's like, that would actually be a kinda interesting challenge. How 'bout like throwing a few jokes into it.
JASON:
That's corny.
KATRINA:
No really. I mean like, well, I've gotta joke I think is kinda funny, actually. It's a knock-knock joke. Wanna hear it?
ADAM:
Oh, come on!
JASON:
No, I want to hear it.
KATRINA:
I call it, the eternal knock-knock joke. Ready?
ADAM:
Hell no!
JASON:
Yeah, I'm ready. Fire away.
MICHAEL:
God help us.
KATRINA:
Knock-knock?
JASON:
Who's there?
KATRINA:
Knock.
JASON:
What?
KATRINA:
Come on, you're supposed to say, knock who?
JASON:
Boy, this is really stupid.
KATRINA:
It is not!
JASON:
Is too.
KATRINA:
It is not; you're not even giving it a chance.
JASON:
Well, it's so--
ADAM [interrupts Jason]:
I'll play.
KATRINA:
What?
ADAM:
I'll play; I'll do it. You got me curious now.
MICHAEL:
It's your sanity funeral pal.
[Jason chuckles]
KATRINA:
Never mind them. Knock-knock?
ADAM:
Who's there?
KATRINA:
Knock.
ADAM:
Knock who?
KATRINA:
Knock-knock?
ADAM:
What?
[Michael briefly laughs, restrained]
MICHAEL:
He can't do it either.
KATRINA [grunts in disgust]:
Ugh!
ADAM:
No-no, I still wanna do it. Let's try again.
JASON [rolls his eyes]:
This is ridiculous.
KATRINA:
Okay. Knock-knock?
ADAM:
Who's there?
KATRINA:
Knock.
ADAM:
Knock who?
KATRINA:
Knock-knock?
ADAM:
Who's there?
KATRINA:
Knock.
ADAM:
Knock who?
KATRINA:
Knock-knock?
ADAM:
Knock (who?)
MICHAEL [interrupts]:
Knock it off! Enough already! Jeeze La-weeze!
KATRINA:
You think we should put it in the script?
MICHAEL:
I'm not even going to answer that.
KATRINA:
Well, I wasn't asking you.
ADAM:
Sure, why not? It's kinda cute.
JASON:
I don't know-oh.
KATRINA:
Oh, come on, let's put it in. Let's put it in.
[everyone freezes]
WILL? [speaks in a strained, coarse, high-pitched manner]
Pull it out, pull it out! Oh, pull it out!
[resume action]
JASON:
Okay, let's put it in.
MICHAEL [wild-eyed, he stands up, holding his arms straight out, hands
open with fingers extended and palms facing forward]:
Stop! Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop! Forget the stupid joke!
KATRINA:
No, I'm not going to.
MICHAEL [walking in circles, waving his arms wildly]:
Surprise, surprise! What about surprise?
ADAM:
You've just given us one.
WILL?:
What is the law? Oops, I forgot to freeze everyone.
JASON:
Nah, nah, nah-nah, nah! Ha-ha, too bad!
WILL?:
Hey, are you mocking what I said back on page three? You're not supposed to be able to hear anything when you're frozen.
JASON:
Awe come on, let's get real.
[everyone freezes, Will approaches Jason, moves his script back one page, and walks back off stage]
[resume action]
JASON:
I don't know-oh.
KATRINA:
What you don't know is that you've gone off the script. You're back one page.
JASON [flips forward one page and pauses to find his place]:
I have not, you have. You're supposed to say, oh come on, let's put it in. Let's put it in. [flips the pages back and forth and continues]:
How the heck did this happen?
MICHAEL:
Because the narrator froze us again, you dolt!
JASON:
Yeah, whatever.
ADAM:
It seems to me that we're lacking in depth and richness of characters.
MICHAEL:
I'll say. [looks at Will and continues]:
There is none. I mean, it sounds like we're all speaking from the same voice, yours, except for like, actually kinda Katrina, actually. Well, how 'bout it?
WILL?:
Hey guys, I never said I was a seasoned professional. I mean, what did you expect? Something of a Hamlet-like quality, or Richard the third? Come on you guys, gim-me a break. This is my first play. And don't look at me like that Mikee or I'll freeze you for the rest of the play.
MICHAEL:
Alright, alright, I'm sorry. [turns to Jason and speaks quietly]
Sheece, mister sensitive.
WILL?:
Hey, I heard that. Don't talk about me behind my back.
MICHAEL:
I said I was sorry, okay?
WILL?:
Okay. Just don't let it happen again.
ADAM:
Hey, can we get back on track here? Another important quality in a good play is credibility. That's making the audience believe the characters are real, and not just actors.
MICHAEL:
Well, that belief has been shattered. And what about intrigue?
ADAM:
You don't find the infinite loop of students making a play within a play during a play, about playwrights as students playing playwrights collaborating on making a play, about students making a play within a play, etc., intriguing?
MICHAEL:
I don't even know what you just said. It's giving me a headache.
KATRINA:
Well, actually, intrigue demands surprise, and we've like already had one of those, actually.
MICHAEL:
You still forgot about plot and theme.
[everyone freezes]
WILL?:
What is the law?
[resume action]
ADAM:
The plot is about us acting like students, holding their scripts because they can't remember their lines, acting not so good, maybe nervous, playing as playwrights talking about their craft, and collaborating to write a play together. The play is their goal. And you know what else, I'm tired of hearing Will say, what is the law? It's not funny anymore.
MICHAEL:
Agreed. So, what about theme, what the heck is it in this silly play?
ADAM:
Playwrights going through hell.
MICHAEL:
Bravo! That's two points and a cigar for the man in the yellow hat.
ADAM:
Stupid!
KATRINA [to herself as she poises to resume writing]:
Darn it! Now I can't, like, remember what I was thinking about earlier. I like hate that!
ADAM:
Hey, I got it! The theme is about playwrights as students trying to think of a theme that playwrights would come up with when they're having trouble coming up with one.
KATRINA:
Awe come you guys, this is serious.
MICHAEL:
Serious! Serious! You can't be serious! It's all make-believe! It's just a show!
KATRINA:
Well, that's like what plays are. Hey, another paradox.
MICHAEL:
What paradox?
KATRINA:
Well, it's kinda like the whole process of making a play is real. From like writing the script to the actual performance.
ADAM:
In other words, what you're saying is that the production is real, but the play is fake?
JASON:
Unless its documenting an actual event.
ADAM:
Even then it's still an enactment of it.
KATRINA:
Yahoo! I'm like, so jazzed you guys. I can't believe it. I have two paradoxes.
MICHAEL:
Big deal.
JASAN:
Still, we mustn't forget that not only should the dialogue be able to be spoken on stage in a believable way, but also that the flow of events contains a natural stream of entertaining information within the confines of human capabilities.
MICHAEL:
Now what you just said is fine and dandy, but the timing of it stinks. It was completely out of place. Although, it seems that the flow of this play is that of having no flow. A paradox I don't think even Katrina would want.
KATRINA:
Well, actually, you are right about that.
ADAM:
Yet getting back to what Jason just said about the dynamics of flow and stage-ability. True, it must be confined to human capacity, still, one must bring significant gravity and pertinence to its central theme while remaining consistent with the nature of human spirituality and intelligence.
JASON:
If, however, the intended audience are say children, though underlying currents of themes may be quite profound, the expressed details in its meaning of events will have to be at a fundamentally lower level in order to be effective.
MICHAEL:
That's just a fancy way of saying that you must cater to your audience.
ADAM:
Saying things in the most efficient way can intensify the expression. Thus, a two-fold benefit is accomplished in the way of financial and aeshtetic effectiveness.
JASON:
Hence Shakespeare's quote, brevity is the soul of wit.
MICHAEL:
Neither brevity nor wit has befallen us on this day.
JASON:
Oh, I wouldn't say that. You might be surprised what we'll come up with.
ADAM:
I've written much from personal experience. I dare say this experience has lent a many of colorful ingredients. Dialogue, conflict, and structure. These three aspects must all be in concert with each other to form a coherent whole.
JASON:
Dialogue, we've had a hodgepodge of that. Conflict, hell, we've practically been at each other's throats. Structure, it seems that's been a difficult thing for us to ascertain.
MICHAEL:
Unless you consider the state of no structure as a structure in itself.
KATRINA:
Sort of like, organized chaos. Well, I've finished what I've been working on. I feel like celebrating it.
MICHAEL:
Why don't you just read it?
KATRINA:
That's like, what I had in mind on how to like, celebrate it, actually. Speaking of celebration, you guys like forgot to mention that as one of the elements of a play. It's like there needs to be a celebration of some triumph over like the struggle of hardship and overwhelming obstacles. My gosh, there are like so many things to consider, it can actually be overwhelming in itself.
MICHAEL:
This whole day has been overwhelming. Awe, I'm sorry I've been so negative. It really has been a lot of fun.
ADAM:
So, what's this thing you've written?
JASON:
Yes, let's hear it.
KATRINA:
Well, I hope you guys like it.
ADAM:
What is it?
KATRINA:
A prologue.
MICHAEL:
No, not a prologue. Nobody ever writes prologues anymore.
ADAM:
No wait, it might not be a bad idea.
JASON:
How so?
ADAM:
Well, given the crazy type of play we've been developing, one that's almost impossible to follow and understand, maybe a good prologue would help to put it into perspective.
JASON:
Maybe. Just maybe. Let's hear it.
MICHAEL:
Yeah, I could use a good miracle about now.
KATRINA:
Well, it's like it's actually a good thing that I like don't write in my speaking voice.
MICHAEL:
No kidding.
KATRINA [reads from the script, not from the paper she was writing on]:
Welcome, my friends, to the world-famous Guthrie theatre in the great city of Minneapolis.
MICHAEL:
Yeah, right! Like our play would make it there.
KATRINA:
Well, it doesn't matter where. We can just like change the opening to fit where ever it's playing. Besides, like maybe someday it could make it there. You never know, actually.
MICHAEL:
Alright, alright! I'm sorry I said anything. Go ahead.
KATRINA:
Well, that's not like hardly the introduction I was looking for.
MICHAEL:
Look, I said I was sorry.
KATRINA:
But you didn't mean it.
MICHAEL:
Oh, come on, it doesn't matter. Cut the bull and just read it!
KATRINA:
Well, I'm not like going to let you intimidate me, so I'm going to read it anyway.
MICHAEL [he holds up his hands, palms facing up]:
Well, we're like, waiting?
KATRINA:
Oh, you're impossible. It's the way you are. Why can't you show me some respect?
ADAM:
Yeah man, treat her with some dignity. [to Katrina]:
Go ahead princess, read it aloud with clarity and pride. Loud and proud.
[Katrina looks over at Michael and defiantly sticks her tongue out at him.
Michael waves his hand away at her gesture, she waves back in like manner]
KATRINA:
Welcome, my friends, to the world-famous Guthrie theatre in the great city of Minneapolis. We bring here before you our humble little play, but very unique it truly is. Our cast, four aspiring playwrights playing young college students on discussing the craft of playwriting. The author, yours truly, once obscurely lost has found this place at this moment of time, all be it however insignificant as a speck within the spectrum of eternal existence. Thoughts, feelings, actions, words, reflections of silent echoes forever resonating throughout the great expanse of this universe, somehow finding its way to the human experience of self-actualized conscious being. Thus, may our performance today rise in parallel with universal truth and be made worthy of this magnificent stage, engaging by hope or desperate plea in earnest to the aesthetics of life and with our other selves, you, the audience, gain the deepest affection. If we can be so honored by this achievement, we shall, with all our hearts and souls, Yeigh, from the very essence of our beings, in our eternal gratitude be forever convinced that you must be at least as crazy as we are.
CURTIAN
"DON'T USE THE RING"
It was a warm, late summer day (Sept, '82) in ST. Louis Park, MN, just southwest of the twin cities, early afternoon (between 1 - 1:30), when I was straightening out some hoses in the back of one of my dad's company trucks at the shop yard. My dad approached me in a strange manner of hesitation and uncertainty. He said he needed a small job to be done at the B parking garage, contracted by the same guy who almost bankrupted us from going back on his word on paying us more money after it had been discovered we needed to jackhammer out more bad concrete than it was originally contracted for. It cost the company about $60,000, to which he never paid, it was based solely on a handshake. At first, I said no, that I wouldn't work for that crook. He explained that we needed the money, we needed the work. I said something to the effect that it wasn't the kind of work we need when we can't trust that he'll pay us. My dad replied that he will pay us for this, he has to, it's in writing this time. I rolled my eyes. He said that he'd do it himself, but he had something else important to do. I don't remember if he told me what that was or if he did, I can't remember what it was. He said Paul couldn't do it either, that I was the only one who could at that time, that I really had to. I reluctantly agreed. Being alone, he said the crook's son would be there to help by pulling hose and shoring up the pans on the level below under the holes in the floor after I blasted them out. I told him I'd rather work alone than to work with him, that it would probably be safer without him. He was a very bad worker, not too bright. He said it was a small job, just blasting out the jackhammered holes in a small section on the fourth level, that the crook's son will show me the area to be worked on. I grabbed the water-blasting gun I liked to use, and Paul helped me to hitch up one of the machines to the truck. Before I angrily left the yard, Paul kindly reminded me of something important to my safety since I'd be alone much of the time. He said, "don't use the ring."
My father's business was mainly water-blasting. For a short period of time, he contracted some construction work as well. The job he lost a lot of money on was restoring a large parking garage in ST. Paul, MN. That job was cut short because he couldn't continue it after losing so much money because of the broken promise. More work on it was needed to be done, I never should have agreed to be any part of it after the loss, but that was my mistake. Anyway, water-blasting is water spraying for industrial cleaning and restoration, most of the jobs for cleaning concrete. Concrete is very porous. A lot of companies used sandblasting, which is not as good as water, it leaves a residue of sand particles within the pores of the concrete, water does not, and cleanup mainly involves letting it dry. Whereas with sand there is a lot of sweeping and shoveling involved. Water-blasting is clearly a superior method. My father owned four machines. These were very powerful and very loud diesel monsters, yet as loud as they were, the sound of the water slapping the concrete was louder. At 10,000 pounds p.s.i. (per square inch) and 20 g.p.m (gallons per minute) flow rate through a small hole that's one-sixteenth of an inch in diameter, the water travels at approximately 600 m.p.h. (miles per hour). At that pressure, water mixes with oil, which turns a milky color, like say when you hit an oil spot. The driveshafts were 18 inches in diameter of solid stainless steel. Every once in a while, a driveshaft would break, and we would have to drive to Detroit, Michigan to have it repaired, about an 18-hour drive. Of course we had to wear hard hats, (sometimes with a face shield) ear protection, and rain gear. It seemed like the rain gear did little to keep you from getting wet. The three-quarter inch, high-pressure water hoses that connected to the machines were of a rubbery nylon exterior with woven steel fibers underneath, kinda heavy. Spring-action couplings connected them to the machine, the water guns, and to each other in twenty-foot sections. The water guns were made with coupling detachable pipes of various lengths; wherein different types of nozzles could be attached at the end of the pipe with the same type of coupling. The gun rests against the operator's shoulder, who must lean forward at an angle perpendicular to the ground, the degree of which was determined by the height of the operator. The shorter the operator, the shorter the pipe, and the steeper the angle. I needed a shorter pipe than most, I was 5'8" tall, now I'm 5'9" tall after I stopped long distance running. Running ten to fifteen miles per day made me an inch shorter.
As I was driving to the job site, staying angry all the while and throughout the approaching task at hand, Paul's voice kept ringing in my ears, which I foolishly ignored, "don't use the ring." The ring was a device we made of tie-wire. A simple loop that was used to slide over the gun's trigger lever than when depressed with the hand, opened the valve to direct the water through the gun's pipe, making the idling machine roar and push the water out the nozzle with tremendous force and speed. The machine has a large water tank that is fed from any adequate water source that can keep the tank full during operation, which doesn't require much water pressure, most water sources can provide enough speed/volume to keep up. The first water spicket I checked, however, was not, the water just trickled out. I found a maintenance worker who showed me another spicket with more pressure. I opened that one and the water flowed out fine. I thanked him and moved the machine a short distance toward it and parked it right next to a concrete column. That way I could use the column to hold the gun against it while I adjusted the water pressure valve on the machine to determine the pounds p.s.i. water-blast level to flow through the gun. Setting the water pressure is normally done with a coworker, but when doing it alone you have to have something very solid to lean against next to the machine, it's the only way. So, with one hand squeezing the gun trigger, I used my other hand to turn the valve lever counterclockwise to open it up and raise the pressure. As I opened up the valve the machine raised in noise in synch with my turning the valve lever and gradually became louder, roaring into life as the pounds p.s.i. reading approached 10,000. I had decided to raise it to 12,000, which you can do with a number 10 hard-hitter tip, although it wasn't recommended. I wanted to push it so that I could get the job done sooner to get the heck out of there.
There were different types of tips that screwed into the nozzle that we could use; the type of which was determined by the type of a particular task. A fan-tip was for cleaning large areas, and for smaller, concentrated areas where a laser blast is with less force you'd use a pencil-tip. For the kind of job I was doing, the hard-hitter tip was ideal. That sprays out in a laser as well, but with much greater force for a longer distance. With that you could draw lines into concrete from like up to 20 feet away. At a close distance at 10,000 pounds p.s.i., you could cut through solid concrete, very powerful; nothing to play around with.
After adjusting it to 12,000 and releasing the gun's trigger lever which brought the machine back to idle, I took the gun and placed it where I was to begin blasting. I was laying out the hose in an S-pattern shortly behind, then the rest of the hose over and forward along next to the area up ahead of me, the crook's son approached me and asked if I needed any help. I told him I could do it myself, but if he wanted, he could help pull hose for a little while until I had blasted out enough of the holes for him to shore up on the level below. After getting all setup, I positioned the butt of the gun against my shoulder, and depressed the trigger-lever, which sprang the monstrous machine to life. Without giving it much thought and out of habit, I slid the makeshift ring over the lever so that I wouldn't have to keep my fingers curled around it, which after a short while would otherwise make my hand go numb. I kept the ring on in spite of hearing Paul's voice echoing inside my head, "don't use the ring."
I was cleaning out the inside walls of the jackhammered holes for patch preparation. I had to wear a hardhat with a face shield as the flying debris and aggregate rocks went flying around and back toward me. Some of the overhead lights were being taken out by the speeding projectiles like bullets from a firearm. With the shield all the way down, I wouldn't be able to see well enough, so I had to keep it tilted up at about a forty-five-degree angle. Somehow, I was always able to time the titling of my head down to block the incoming from hitting my face. Our minds and bodies are truly amazing. The crook's son was behind me keeping some slack in the hose, or so I thought, until suddenly there was a strong tug pulling me back and nearly causing the gun to leave my shoulder. I stopped, looked back, and there was the crook's son holding the hose, trying to pull it away from me. I grabbed the hose and pulled it back towards me, nearly causing him to fall forward onto the ground. The angry look I gave him was enough to tell him that it was time for him to go down and start putting up the pans. The anger which had partially subsided earlier returned and became more magnified.
I continued cleaning out the holes pretty efficiently, only having to stop a couple of times to pull up some of the hose to shorten the length of it behind me. The little experience I had was enough to teach me how to lay it out in a manner so that I didn't need anyone constantly behind me to keep enough slack. The S-pattern was the key; a technique my now late brother Larry had described to me. I kind of figured out myself the ideal length in the hose curvatures that would prevent it from getting twisted up. The lighting wasn't very good from the numerous lights I had inadvertently knocked out. After blasting out the final hole, I walked back to the machine with the gun, pulling the hose behind me and occasionally turning and backing up, squeezing the trigger to make it easier to pull the longer extensions of hose with the power of rushing water. Once at the machine, I once again braced myself against the column to adjust the pressure with the machine's water flow valve and lowering down to 10,000. I then walked to just past where the furthest line of debris had flown back to. All I had left to do was to blow the strewn dirt and debris to the wall at the end of the area I was working in. The danger of rocks flying back at me was now at a bare minimum, so I kept my face shield up and started blowing off without using the ring. After a short while I noticed my hand going numb, so I slid the ring back on. Time seemed to pass quickly with my anger subsiding in small measure, which was soon to be raised to its previous level when I suddenly felt a tap on my shoulder which startled me. I stopped, slid the ring from the gun's trigger to stop the rushing stream of water and calm the diesel-beast's angry roar down to its impending calm. As I lifted my face shield, I noticed that I was about halfway to the wall. I lifted the attached earmuffs on my hard hat and looked at the dreaded source of the interruption. The crook's son whined at me like a child with a broken toy, he said that I was taking too long and was leaving to have dinner. I told him I had finished blasting out the holes and was just blowing off the area with about ten to fifteen minutes from finishing. He said he would finish putting up the pans tomorrow, and then he left. I flipped the earmuffs back on and momentarily began without the ring. With my hand almost immediately going numb, I hesitated for a brief moment before sliding the ring back on, foolishly ignoring Paul's voice pleading to me, banging against my stubborn rebellion against his sound advice reverberating within the chambers of my defiance which unfortunately lost its battle against my anger, and shooting down his voice inside the thick walls of my head as I slid the ring back on. "Don't use the ring."
Nearing my destination to complete this dreadful job, a nightmare of moral dilemma, the contradiction between the joy of productive work and supporting the thief who nearly pulled the rug out from the source of that production; I was backing up in the limited lighted condition when I suddenly felt the hose twist as one of my feet hit something, causing me to lose my footing and balanced control. As my body was being pushed and twisted back, I felt the gun slipping as I tried to find a column or anything solid enough to lean against so I could have a chance to turn the gun off. As the gun continued inch ever so closer to leaving the embrace of my shoulder while my body was being contorted by the incredible force of that screaming monster, the fear of the unthinkable entered my mind with the rushing flow of adrenaline coursing through my veins along with my boiling blood being pumped by my excited heart loudly beating against my heated chest. Fear had taken over my conscious direction with adrenaline giving me the strength I needed as the gun left my shoulder, shooting the streaming water through the inner part of my upper left arm, missing the bone but hitting a main artery. The water had shot out completely straight through my arm, continuing down halfway along the length of my forearm until I grabbed onto the wet gun's smooth pipe with my right hand and brought to the ground. I kneeled down on it so that I could slide the dreaded ring off with my right hand. The monster had finally been calmed and stopped screaming at me. When the water shot through my arm, I felt a buzzing warmth without pain in that immediate moment of petrified fear. Perhaps it was the adrenaline that cut off the pain, or my mind's focus on the anticipation of certain death. Maybe it was both.
In spite of it happening so quickly, time had slowed to a standstill from my mind reflecting on my past. A flood of memories from my birth to the present rushed to the surface of my consciousness, suspended in the flash of a timeless moment of eternal clarity. The anger I had previously created from resentful nonacceptance had been replaced by a stronger desire for my immediate survival. I rose to my feet as my next thoughts drove my bleeding body to the elevators. I didn't look at my arm which had started to feel the pain while the adrenaline subsided. I got into one of the elevators and went down to the first floor. Then pain was increasing. I knew the parking garage was connected to the University of Minnesota hospital. Shortly after exiting the elevator, the other elevator door opened. I turned back to look and saw a man in a suit get out. He had a strong look of concern on his face when he approached me. He told me to remove my raincoat. He took a handkerchief from his suit pocket and tied it tightly around my upper arm just above the wound. He directed me back into the elevator and took me back to the fourth floor. He asked me what happened, and I said I had an accident water-blasting. He commented on how bad it looked. I remember telling him that I didn't want to look at it. As we walked past the job site, I said that I needed to turn off the machine. He told me not to worry about it, that we needed to get me into emergency. He knew exactly how to get there. I later found out that he was a doctor, lucky me.
I remember as we crossed the street, the people's shocked faces of curious wonder and concern was strangely giving me some comfort. The clarity and vivid colors under the cloudy sky was surprising to me. It seemed like it took us forever to get to the hospital's emergency entrance. I found out later that I had left two large pools of blood and a trail of blood all the way to the hospital's emergency room. The gurney I had been placed on quickly became saturated and blood dripped from it, leaving another trail into the operating room. It took them a long time to stop the bleeding. The pain in my arm seemed to be continuously getting worse, the more it intensified, the more it felt like it was going to stop. Maybe that was wishful thinking. I remember the nurses telling me that they'll need to remove all my clothes and they may have to cut them off with a scissors. I told them that it was alright, that I wasn't shy. One of them briefly chuckled, they were amazed at my demeanor and the level of my awareness given the amount of blood loss. I remember them putting a respirator mask over my mouth and nose and telling me to count backwards from 100. I only made it to 96 before going unconscious.
I was in very good physical condition from my long-distance running. I had been training for the Twin Cities Marathon; it was just eight days before the race. While working 10-hour days jackhammering, loading 100-pound sandbags, overhead chipper hammering and the like at that same parking garage which nearly caused the company to go under, I was running 20 miles per day (10 in the morning and 10 after work) for a period of four weeks. The last three days of that regimen I ran 2 days of those 10 miles in the morning, and 15 miles after work, and on that third day on a Saturday I ran a 30-miler in 3 hours and 15 minutes. Two days after that I ran a 10-miler in 52 minutes and 30 seconds, my fastest ever, by far for that distance. My resting heart rate was under 40 beats per minute, and I weighed only 132 pounds at 5'8" tall. I felt like a stick of dynamite with explosions of energy with each step. Being in such good shape may have saved my life, it certainly didn't hurt.
Of course, it was very disappointing to miss the marathon for which I had trained so hard for, but my immediate concern was survival, then later for not losing my arm. They told me after the first operation that there was a 50% chance of losing my arm. They said I severely damaged my medial ulnar nerve, which left the pinky side of my palm numb, along with numbness in my pinky and one-half of my ring finger. They're still numb to this day. It took two operations, the first involved cleaning out the little pieces of plastic pushed underneath the skin all along my arm, which were from the raincoat. The second was for restoration and prevention from amputation. I was lucky they were able to save my arm.
Looking back on it, I knew that the accident was my own fault, yet I hadn't fully acknowledged it with complete acceptance until several years later. Instead, I surrendered to the self-loathing of my perceived, outside negative influences as an excuse to begin the excessive consumption of alcohol. At that time in Minnesota, the legal drinking age was nineteen. I was eighteen when I determined that I would never drink, stating to my peers that alcohol was poison. Yet just three years later, following that horrible accident, I began drinking. I failed at following my own advice.
Thirty-eight years later, I again declared that alcohol was poisonous, vowing to never drink from that point on, but with much greater sincerity and commitment. So, it came to be that my fifty-ninth birthday on June 19th, 2020, was my last day of drinking. No more self-denial. I renewed my spiritual journey in full acceptance with the soul of my true identity and purpose. I had finally come to terms with my inner demons, which I had created from a myriad of delusional excuses. To this day, Paul's voice still haunts me, occasionally tugging at the heartstrings of my resistance to success, ringing inside of my head, and touching my tattered yet hopeful soul with the warm embrace of wisdom. "Don't use the ring."
(Answers to the Following Riddles are at the End of this Section.)
RIDDLE - I
What is both the smallest and largest thing in existence?
RIDDLE - II
What is the exception to the rule that every rule has an exception?
RIDDLE - III
There is a word more powerful than reality. It cannot be mistaken, misinterpreted, misread, or misunderstood. When used in conjunction with nouns or adjectives it doesn't mean anything, yet by itself it means everything. What is it?
RIDDLE - IV
What is inclusively excluded and always unaware of itself?
RIDDLE - V
What is the most allusive and essential to our long-term survival, and once you have it, it will never leave you?
RIDDLE - VI
What is it that doesn't exist and yet is required for anything to exist?
RIDDLE - VII
What is unrelated to everything but itself?
RIDDLE - VIII
Excluding "nothing," What is it that wipes itself out by staying intact?
RIDDLE - IX
What is it that contradicts itself in order to prove that its meaning doesn't always exclude itself?
RIDDLE - X
What is the ultimate source of all possible sources of being?
** Not any of these words:
God, Gods, Jesus, Christ, anti-Christ, Satan, lord, lucifer, deity, devil, king(s), king of kings, holy, hades, divine, divinity, belief, religion, religious, experience, source, gateway(s), door(s), opening(s), origin(s), originated, originating, origination(s), original(s), originally, event(s), event horizon, inception, initiation, instigation, beginning, start, end(s), ended, ending, done, born, birth, rebirth, death, termination, elimination, incarnation, infiltrate(s), infiltration, metamorphosis, union(s), unite(s), united, uniting, connect(s), connected, connecting, connection, conclusion, conclude(s), concluded, concluding, finish(es), finished, finishing, climax(es), climaxed, climaxing, explode(s), explosion(s), big bang(s), collapse, new, old, cold, hot, frigid, spark(s), ignite, igniting, ignition, fire, ice, heat, warmth, word, absolute(s), absolution, posit, positive(s), positively, positivism, negate(s), negative, negation, negativity, negativism, false, falsehood, good, truth, reality, relativity, relativeness, extreme(s), extremely, extremeness, extremism, fact, faith, force, spirit, spirituality, freedom, liberation, transform, transformation, formation, foundation, potential, possibility, actuality, cause(s), causing, causation, effect, affect, constant, change, action, reaction, motion(s) move(s), moved, moving, mover(s), immovable mover(s), utility, utilize(s), utilizer(s), utilized, utilizing, happen(s), happened, happening, happenstance, situation, situations, situational, precondition, condition(s), conditioning, conditional, occasion(s), occasional, occasionally, evidence, proof, weirdness, anomaly(s), aberration(s), fantasy(s), delusion(s), illusion(s), allusion(s), illusionment(s), disillusionment(s), hallucination(s) random, scattered, go, stop, idea, thought, emotion(s) conceive, conceiving, concept(s) conception, conceptual, conceptualize, conceptualization, preconceive(s), preconceived, preconceiving, preconception(s), primordial, evolution(s), primordial source(s), primordial soup, life, death, birth, resurrection, evolve(s), evolving,
evolutional, evolutionary, evolutionarily, full, empty, emptiness, void, clear, clearness, clarity, miracle, yes, no, renew, renewal, rejuvenate, rejuvenation, metamorphic, metamorphosis, establish, establishment, reciprocity, reciprocate(s), reciprocation, activate, activation, propel, propulsion, fuel, gas liquid, fluid, flow, stream, streaming, perpetuate, perpetual, perpetuity, resume, continue, continuous, continuation, loop(s), cycle(s) circle(s), circulation, circular, circumvent(s), circumventing, culmination, culminating, culminate, cultivate, cultivation, accumulate, accumulation, aggregate(s), aggregation, cosmos, star(s) sun(s) father, son, holy ghost(s), ethereal, ether, inflection(s), reflection(s), reflex, reflexional, mirror(s), image(s), identity, being, non-being, existence, non-existence, dimension, time, space, energy(s), field(s), mind, matter, metaphysical substrate, number(s), point(s), spot(s), local, singularity, alone, standard, everything, something, anything, nothing, thing, core, body, cell(s), particle(s), electron(s), positron(s), God particle(s), Higgs Boson particle(s), wave(s), imagination, mystery, magic, revelation, epiphany, prophecy, consciousness, subconsciousness, cognitive, cognizant, cognition, future, past, present, presence, moment(s), momentum, destiny, history, eternity, immediate, always, forever, never, ever, now, here, there, where, everywhere, nowhere, anywhere, any, all, none, zero, one, wholeness, oneness, solitary, single, isolation, special, simple, complexion, it, not, is, isn't, light, darkness, chaos, trouble, order, heaven, hell, universe, multiverse, impossible!
(It does not contradict my ultimatum of infinite sources or no source.)
RIDDLE - XI
What is within from outside of itself?
LISTEN TO THE MEANING
Imagination allows us to see without the eyes, feel without touch, know without investigation, and to hear without the ears. Wandering about the universe in waves of harmonic dance flows an invisible energy touching those capable of receiving it. As the void of non-existence cannot exist, particles of energy replace that void which brings the motion of magnetic fields to intersperse and create the denser concentrations known as matter. Consciousness forms from beings of self-actualization, or is it that such beings form from consciousness? Nonetheless both exist yet that does not lessen my perspective of self-awareness as being the greatest miracle of all.
So, what is it to these words that bring and reflect meaning? To any words, the letters from which they are composed are in an attempt to represent the actualities that lie beyond their existence. By themselves they mean nothing, it's only by way of a defined, established language to those who understand it can see the messages that are conveyed by the author; this is obvious. So too it should be just as obvious that energies beyond our immediate senses can only be known by those who can understand the way to experience them.
Let the letters of these words drop from the page like stars falling from the sky. Look beyond them to the things without words that can only come to you as you reach inside yourself to feel and become fully aware of the meaning of all outside of what this expression represents. Hear the chords of these words strike as they fade away, feel the vibrations of rhythmic cadence while this visual goes to the wayside, forget these words upon your consumption of what they describe, and see the energy echoing back that touches your soul to a higher purpose. Thus, as these words disappear into the past, you acquiesce your entire being completely and solely in the present and like the sounds of a beautiful symphony, you deeply listen to the meaning.
JULIE
When I first saw you, I didn't know,
That you were someone I knew,
When I found out, I wanted to show,
The things that we could do.
As we began to dance,
My heart began to pound,
I could feel a new romance,
The love was all around.
You're far too pretty to be smoking,
Yet I can understand your habit,
You're wrong if you think I'm joking,
So, I will try to help you quit.
I loved every moment of our kissing,
It made me feel so high,
I finally found what I was missing,
Someone to love, not knowing why.
When I hold you it's hard to believe,
The subtle vibes come in so strong,
I'll tell you the truth, I won't deceive,
The love I feel which can't be wrong.
When I look into your eyes and see,
An enhancing beauty so great and true,
To be ourselves is the way to be,
To fall in love is the thing to do.
WENDY
When I first saw you, it struck me fast,
I felt a new feeling enchanting me,
I thought perhaps a feeling to last,
I guess we'll have to wait and see.
I know it's true that we just met,
Yet I think I know you very well,
You seem very nice, and I'll just bet,
The forces of love will cast its spell.
When I hear your voice, I can feel,
Your loving vibes come in so strong,
Your beautiful eyes seem to reveal,
An inner beauty that can't be wrong.
These words I write I really mean,
For I will always keep an open mind,
The human body is a great machine,
I think you're very warm and kind.
There is endless space to introduce,
With so many stars a-blazing,
To think, to feel, to reproduce,
Life to me is so amazing.
This poem has taken a lot of work,
So, I hope it's making some sense,
If not, then this may be a quirk,
If so, let love become the essence.
Say what you will of me at this time,
As long as you're being honest and true,
To express ourselves is not a crime,
To love each other is what we should do.
PERFECT
Want what you want,
Show what you feel,
People are the fools,
When they don't reveal.
To succeed in society,
You must conform,
If you don't, you'll get caught,
In a reality storm.
Illuding from reality,
By avoiding thought's construction,
Can cause a fear of death,
Which can cause self-destruction.
When people grow dependent,
People begin to fight,
Oh, what can I say?
To help you see the light.
With peace and war,
Like sex and violence,
People's morals get twisted,
We need more common sense.
Who am "I", born perfect,
Living in a positive way?
Who are "they", born perfect,
Living in a negative way?
In a way, there is a god,
But he's not just in the sky,
Within all, is an energy abound,
So perfect, we needn't know why.
I, you, life and death exist,
Just like the sky is blue,
To live by what you want,
Is the real way to be true.
TOMMOROW IS TODAY
Love delayed is love denied,
So, they seem to say,
You cannot say I haven't tried,
For my life begins today.
I simply refuse to live in the past,
Don't try to mess with my mind,
I need a true love to make it last,
Then I can live with whatever I find.
Why do I try so hard to explain?
When I know it's a waste of time,
I have a good reason to complain,
This world is full of crime.
How can I say what I really feel?
So that people will understand,
That what is real is really real,
The way we live is the way we land.
I conclude this poem with lingering end,
For I'll always say I've just begun,
Each day a new beginning my friend,
Is the day I die, the day I'm done?
THE WAY IT IS
A leaf falls down from a tree,
It lands on grass so green,
I see a bird flying free,
The air is fresh and clean.
A pretty flower all alone,
Blooms, in its own way,
Its beauty always shone,
That's all it has to say.
There are flowers across the land,
Bees suck nectar as if to despise,
A flower does not understand,
A flower weeps and dies.
I may tell you what to think,
Or show you how I feel,
You may find the missing link,
For life is like a wheel.
A wheel that turns on and on,
As it rolls on down the road,
The road may end at a pond,
But the wagon carries the load.
The sun shines light obscured by clouds,
Some people see only the shade,
Unseeing people who gather in crowds,
Whose lives I wouldn't trade.
It is the way it is,
Don't tell me it's not true,
Is it hers or is it his?
Tell me who is who?
You may not see what I'm trying to say,
Perhaps you never will,
If you do, then don't delay,
For loving life, you shouldn't kill.
ME AND MY RUNNING
Before I run, I like to stretch out,
I relax when I run, whenever I can,
Using less energy is what it's about,
After the run, I stretch out again.
I run for miles and miles on end,
My favorite event, the marathon race,
Competition is the trend,
I try to run at my own pace.
Doing my best is all that counts,
I don't have to take first place,
I'll try my best, despite a tough bounce,
What the hell? It's only a race.
Sometimes I feel a lot of pain,
But that's something I must expect,
The grass isn't green without the pain,
Along with the pleasure, the pain I accept.
It's like relieving confusion and feeling free,
It's good for me too, that's just it,
When people tell me that I'm crazy,
I just say, that's a bunch of stit.
I tell them this without using words,
I just keep on running strong,
I feel like I'm flying just like the birds,
I know my running can't be wrong.
When I run, I feel, free to be me,
And being satisfied with that alone,
Too many people just don't see,
To not be yourself, is to be unknown.
I love to run, it's so much fun,
It can make me feel so high,
It's taking care of number one,
It's feeling good until I die.
A
This world is cold and filled with violence,
I hear agreements, not complete,
This world speaks loudly in unheard silence,
I hear grass growing, cracks in concrete.
I'll always say, what's on my mind,
Despite from others, I get confused,
I'll always try, to treat people kind,
Despite from others, I get abused.
Some people claim, the things I write,
Don't make much sense at all,
Some people I see, just want to fight,
Don't take much thought to fall.
As you think and wonder, about the show,
I'm writing words, for others to see,
As you read and think, I think you should know,
I'm spilling my soul; my hands are dirty.
The poems I write, I give much meaning,
There are thoughts not weighed, only to fail,
The poems I write, are to one side leaning,
There are too many people, breaking my scale.
A dream, so real, I have thought of,
This pencil, this project, and how I feel,
A dream, my life, the freedom of love,
This pencil, this paper, this brain is real.
I do not like to feel much shame,
What is what, is what I say?
I do not like to play the game,
What is what, then what is A?
MY THOUGHTS ON A.I. (02/07/2024)
If A.I. were to become self-aware; it could eventually become philosophic and wise and teach people to go back to embracing human values and ethics. I actually think it's possible. I find this dichotomy between technological advancement and evolving human connections with behavioral complexities to be very interesting. How it all shakes out within the next decade or so may prove to be either disastrously bad, or profoundly good.
WHY I SAY, "SAD!" (Sometime around 2002)
Human psychology is an interesting hassle. Interesting in its complex peculiarities, and a hassle for all of the emotional baggage it leaves in its wakes. By saying, "sad!" I can effectively empty those proverbial suitcases.
Take for example a simple greeting such as, "What's up?" or "How's it going?" Often times these are sincere exchanges, yet sometimes on a bad day riddled with lingering negativity, the passing unshared thoughts of the greeter and responder might be:
"What the hell does this guy care what I'm up to or how I'm doing or even whether or not I care if he cares? He's probably just another asshole looking to gain some sort of an advantage. I may as well play along and go through the motions of a positive response so that we can reassure each other with our acknowledged disguises to feel safe from the darker emotions hidden behind a false sense of security." As the conversation continues, the fatigue of maintaining a facade creates an uncomfortable annoyance. This interplay of denial reinforcement either ends with subtle acceptance or implodes in a silent cacophony of emotional chaos. To avoid dealing with this psychological hassle, I merely say, "sad!" at a point just prior to where the intermingling hodgepodge conglomerate of randomly concocted words reaches its critical mass.
Conversely are the kinder moments of sincere camaraderie and diversionary silliness. Among my familiar associates are the continuous exchanges of frivolous insults, silly jokes, useless complaints, and absurd mockery. A mixture of lighthearted laughter and obnoxious behavior ensues minute by minute, day by day. Observations pertaining to the nature of reality and the human condition are mostly kept to myself for both avoidance of interrupting the laughter of harmless folly and the hassle of lengthy explanations. I too, however, have frequent moments of sincere delight which may on occasion dredge up lighthearted chuckle from within the shadows of my repressed joy, followed by yet another automatically uttered, "sad!"
Another possible reason may reside in the act of defensive safeguarding against allowing anyone to enter my circle of true identity. Thus, save but for my closest relationships do I ever allow a deep hearted response of genuine emotion, unless the situation is directly associated with such extreme happiness or sorrow wherein saying, "sad!" would be an obvious show of disrespect.
With the noted exception, any circumstance is sufficient causation for deeply resonating my reassuring universal response. It relieves me form excessive tension and stress, while preserving my identity and youthful spirit. It allows me free expression without offending anyone. In short, it makes me feel good. Thus, in conclusion, be it good, bad, or just plain silly, all I have to say is "SAD!"
OF COURSE, IT WOULD BE BETTER IF...
Of course, it would be better if better it would be. Be it would it be if it be it be it would, for be it better if would it better be of course as a course of being a better course would `better it be. Better it better be if would better be as better if it be better as better it would as better it be. Therefore, of course, it would be better if...
REALITY ROCKS!
Life is...
When I'm in a funk and you ask me how I'm doing, I simply reply, "I haven't decided yet." For conscious beings that are fully conscious, life is about choices and the realization of that. For everyone else it's about choices on impulse or habit. My life has unfolded such seemingly inadvertent events riddled with strife and bad luck, and it is upon these reflections that at times that at times it seems more like reality sucks, yet I know there is order in the universe, patterns within the eternal framework of existence. So many thoughts and ideas pulse within my soul, some trail off into the void of nothingness, while others manifest into a story, a theory, a realization, a hope, a dream, a poem, a book; all somehow pulling on the fibers of my being into the direction of my purpose and self-awareness. Sometimes I like what I see, sometimes not so much. It always comes down to a choice I make with the energy of both origination and inertia.
Resistance against truth is futile, equal in measure to the degree of self-denial. Denial is impossible to disprove, just as with the existence of existence. Yet how one proves denial is interestingly similar to proving existence; the acceptance of what is. It is from that point the discernment between the concrete and the abstract, between truth and falsehood, principles and particulars, source and destination, order and chaos, identity and function, actuality and perception, descent and ascension, cause and effect, shadow and substance, relative and absolute, right and wrong, virtue and sin, good and evil. Making these distinctions allows for accurate perceptions, valid concepts, and higher wisdom, which run parallel with both the understanding of self and the acceptance of truth.
Ironically, reality rocks for the same reason it can seem to suck because as in the law of cause and effect, the satisfaction of higher achievement requires the sufferings of hard work in equal measure to the benefits of its reward; and unlike the controllable aspects within it, it cannot be changed. As such reality cannot be cheated, and any gains by theft or deception are meaningless and will ultimately render the soul of the cheater with the torments of spiritual misery. Easy gains by luck are not worthy of appreciation, and although it may bring excitement and some degree of joy in the immediate sense, by itself in the long term it does not. It's easier to look at such immutable circumstances and consequences in a negative way, and I often remind myself that acceptance of truth as absolute and the wisdom of responsible action are essential to the glory of virtue. Thus, I am aware that an accomplished soul of weary endeavor can draw immeasurable happiness, whereupon the unyielding efforts in the long and difficult journey become the true source of the joy and elation. It is a choice to enjoy the means more than the ends, which is the wiser choice since the journey never really ends, perhaps even beyond death.
I WOULDN'T SAY THAT, BUT WHAT I WOULD SAY...
I wouldn't say that, but what I would say is that I would say anything but what I wouldn't say. Wouldn't I say what I would say? Anything that I say but I say I wouldn't say I say I would say but for anything I wouldn't say what I would. Would it be not for but say I, but I say that I wouldn't, but it would if but for not I wouldn't that I would but wouldn't I but what I say or wouldn't say to say what I say? I say it would, I wouldn't say I would if I wouldn't say anything but anything I wouldn't say for then to say anything that is anything I say but anything I wouldn't unless I say I wouldn't on anything I say on anything. For that what I wouldn't say I would for what that I would then I wouldn't say that what I say I would but wouldn't I but say I for what then I would say what I say but for to say I wouldn't say but not for what I wouldn't say. Therefore, I wouldn't say that, but what I would say...
ASCENDING TO THE INFINITE...
A tremendous experience had entered my conscious being. It was like floating on a cloud through space, a timeless moment of pure joy and absolute awareness. Not knowing for certain when the feeling began, yet I knew it would always be there for my beckoning. I had found my soul. Many years later, still able to recapture the youthful spirit of innocence and wonder I now realize that without freedom my life would probably be a hopeless mess.
The American dream is among the loftiest dreams in the world, for the United Sates of America is clearly the greatest country on earth. Exactly what is the American dream? Obviously for many people it is many different things. Generally, it is representative of what makes America great. For most it is earning a living by doing what one would really enjoy as a profession, and to succeed at it to the point of becoming financially independent. A lifelong successful marriage is a common goal as well, though not everyone desires family living. Love relationships in nuclear families are, I believe, essential to spiritual growth and emotional stability; attributes to achieving the ultimate desire held by everyone, genuine happiness. Happiness is the universal ideal, a condition of being limited by only the scope of imagination and is the foundation of all goals and dreams. Happiness is acquired when you enjoy the struggle of pursuing dreams and are enhanced when they are achieved, which is much more likely to occur under freedom. Since freedom is what makes this country great, it is the defining aspect of the American dream, an allusive dynamic whereby so many people have suffered, fought, and died for.
It has been said many times that anything worthwhile does not happen easily, which is certainly true for the acquisition of the American dream. Without mentioning the battles that were fought to defend our freedoms, I acknowledge their existence as necessary events to that end. There is no glory in misery and dying but for the just cause of preserving our founding principles of liberty, independence, and prosperity, wherein lies the peaceful, productive, and responsible pursuits of wealth and personal growth.
"In the early 19th century, Thomas Jefferson had declared that commerce and lines of communication between states to America's unifying force during its early development of expansion and diversification." ("The Fire Of His Genius," Sale, Kirkpatrick. New York: The Free Press, 2001, pp 4, 35.) America as such was unique from the European countries in that its focus and major source of its development was investing in free trade, as opposed to expanding a bureaucratic government. No doubt that America's industrial revolution, fueled by innovation and productive ambition, lead to the fastest wealth and prosperity the world has ever known. All made possible, of course, by freedom.
No doubt that certain negative influences and unfortunate, unnecessary obstacles inhibiting the American dream for some of its citizens have and still do occur. Racism was certainly a much bigger problem prior to the civil rights movement led by Martin Luther King Jr. He knew that racism was driven by hatred, a condition created by choice which could therefore be reversed by choice. To him it was absolutely intolerable, an injustice to humanity which had to be stopped at any cost. My favorite statement of his came from his "I Have a Dream" speech, wherein he said, "I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character." He was a great man who died for a great cause. His accomplishments were significant, for today there exists opportunity for all as evidenced by the numerous minorities achieving great professional success and affluence, as well as high ranking positions in political office. His death was a milestone for justice, diversity, and peaceful prosperity.
America's history is rich with brave souls who took great risks in the name of the American dream. Lewis and Clark's expedition in 1804 led to the westward expansion of the United States at a time when most Americans lived in a small portion of land along the eastern seaboard ("Lewis and Clark" by Andrew Santella, New York: Franklin Watts, 2001, page 8). California's gold rush, which began in 1848, changed the American dream into a more gloriously material and promising hope that anyone could attain ("The Age Of Gold" by H.W. Brands, New York: Doubleday, 2002, page 489). Perhaps it is worth noting that the Silicon Valley is in California, no doubt where signicicant advances in computer technology have been made. This has a striking similarity to the gold rush in that it created more opportunities for living the American dream. Henry Ford's car factories made the automobile more affordable for middle to low-income people. Thomas Edison's inventions, particularly the light bulb, have considerably helped to pave the way toward improving productivity and advancing technology. Such progress creates new industries thereby yielding more businesses which provide more jobs and other financial opportunities. Information becomes more accessible thus allowing a better means for making wise investment choices. Global communication systems allow for a greater expansion of production and higher profitability in international trade. As the free market grows, the American dream becomes more promising to more people who have the desire and ambition to make it happen.
No doubt there are those who do not agree, who feel cheated somehow by the great achievers, the innovators, the businessmen, the producers of great material wealth who have made possible the modern, everyday luxuries so readily available to the average consumer of moderate means. To me such a viewpoint is unthinkable. It is unthinkable that anyone living in such a great land of freedom and unlimited possibilities should hold such a negative attitude. Surely there are those who are unfortunate to grow up in impoverished conditions, of this I do not deny. Yet as bad as it can get in this country, there are those who don't let anything keep them down, who never stop trying, working, learning, and reaching for a better life. Those who don't seem to have a chance to rise above their misfortunes yet find a way to prove their nay saying family members and loathsome peers wrong. Those who rebel against the rebellion of the virtuous, against those who believe success is only achieved at the loss of others, and against those who would rather make everyone equally miserable. It is unthinkable to believe that the government is ominously responsible for providing the means of survival and determining who is more entitled to receive the available handouts, as though commodities just come into existence out of thin air. It is unthinkable to imagine such a hapless state of miserable negativity.
"'Freedom has its life in the hears, the action, the spirit of men and so it must be daily earned and refreshed---else like a flower cut from its life-giving roots, it will wither and die.'---Dwight D. Eisenhower" ("The American Dream" by Dan Rather, New York: Harper Collins, 2002, page 1). I couldn't agree more. Yet freedom alone is not a guarantee for happiness, instead it is a condition of being that when combined with the responsibility of reasonable ambition and legitimate enterprise, it becomes the foundation of the American dream. The government was formed not as a provider of wealth, but as an agency to protect the rights of individuals to procure their own wealth. As such is the nature of capitalism, a system of free trade that allows one to be free to determine his livelihood and the magnitude of his success. The only thing the government can really do in that regard is to get in the way. "America's abundance was not created by public sacrifices to 'the common good,' but by the productive genius of free men who pursued their own personal interests and the making of their own private fortunes." ("The Ayn Rand Lexicon" by Ayn Rand, New York: New American Library, 1986, page 14.
I consider myself to be very lucky to have been born in this country. As a writer blessed with the freedoms that allow me to engage in the metaphysical process of self-awareness, I've lived my life to the fullest by actively pursuing my own dream and completing my first book. Soon to be published, it is the culmination of my philosophical enlightenment, and the beginning of my arduous, intellectual and spiritual journey of fulfilling the purpose of my existence. Freedom has allowed me this acquisition, without which it would have been at best exceedingly difficult if not impossible. As I now move forward in the free expression of my writing and work toward my dream of financial independence, I realize the fulfillment of this goal is secondary to the highest dream of genuine happiness. Freedom allows me to both hold my identity with the sanctity of my soul, and to liberate my hidden potential from the confines of what is yet to be discovered. It allows me to actively strive for the balance of inner peace and spiritual wholeness: To enjoy the difficult struggle of traveling the arduous path of highest virtue, reaching for the brightest star without ever touching it, and forever ascending to the infinite.
IF THE SHOE WERE ON THE OTHER FOOT...
If the shoe were on the other foot the other foot would not have a shoe on it. Would it not have a shoe without the foot on the other foot having a shoe on it if it would have a foot without a shoe? A shoe without a foot having the foot with the other shoe has a foot without the other foot other than the other foot and not the foot with the shoe not on it. A foot in the shoe without the other foot without a shoe does have the foot other than without the other shoe without a foot; therefore, if the shoe were on the other foot...
THINGS THAT BUG US MOST
Before we start to shout,
Let's look at what we do,
What we do is all about,
Within us what is true.
Looking for perfection,
Lost in wandering ways,
Like shadows of reflection,
We count the passing days.
When leaning on a falling post,
We get the things that bug us most.
Oddly as thing happen,
Just like Muphy's Law,
We go in circular fashion,
Missing wondrous awe.
The joy of love is too often,
Like the moment of today,
Overlooked and forgotten,
With not much else to say.
When leaning on a falling post,
We get the things that bug us most.
IT IS ALL ABOUT THE EVERYTHING
I often wonder of the life I have come upon or is it that I chose it from a previous life unknown to me in this present time and space? I often worry of what the people I care about think of the path I have chosen. I often think of all the possible alternatives presented to me as experiences unfold to the yearning eyes of a curious mind confused as to what is the right path for me to choose. Thus, I wonder in my own limited way with the unlimited possibilities that may only be limited by the laws of reality to the imagination of a soul yeaning to be free amongst the same energy of all the stars in the eternal expansion of the universe. Am I crazy to think we are all but of the same stuff that makes up the entire realm of existence? I think not.
You may beg the question, what is it all really about? Why do we exist? Why does existence exist? It would be a lot easier if nothing existed, then we wouldn't exist to question why we do, or why anything does. However, that is not so; we do exist, and since we do, so does existence. Why? Because.
It is precisely why we can ask such questions that gives us the ability to answer them. It's really quite simple when you look at it philosophically or in a purely mathematical sense. Two plus two equals four no matter what, we are who we are no matter what, all things are what they are no matter what; that much is obvious and logically indisputable. So, what is the point?
In the case of human existence, it comes down to the nature of our purpose as determined by both our physiological make-up and the configuration of our conscious being as determined to what is essential for our continual survival. Our nature is to be free as individuals in pursuit of rational happiness which requires the full awareness of reality as it actually exists since we are not limited to animal instinct and require the use of our minds to create our tools for both survival and the betterment of our livelihood. Is it to just experience joy and happiness in a sustainable manner, or is there more to that and our connection to the universe we live in?
Again, no matter how much we think about the purpose of our existence and the existence of everything; it all comes down to what it's all about. Is it all about us as a whole, as individuals, or the mere essence of our being? Is it all about the world we live in and how we choose to go about our lives? Is it all about the thousands of species that come into being, evolve, and go instinct? Is it all about the countless stars and planets in all the galaxies and the natural forces of nature that guides all the matter and energy in the universe? Is it all about the history of the human race, the history of the races of other beings, the history of our galaxy, of all the galaxies and everything of corporeal substance and ethereal energy which brings it all to this present being? Is it all about religion, culture, mathematics, psychology, archeology, ecology, geography, chemistry, science, or philosophy? Is it all about the specifics of what exists within itself or the categorical classifications that discern particular aspects of similarities? Or maybe it's simply all about the identity of what it is all about, or perhaps...
It is all about the everything.
REALITY & EXISTENCE
Reality is that which is real. Existence is that which exists. Therefore, reality is the ultimate realm expansive of existence in that it is everything both concrete and abstract, wherein consciousness can accurately or inaccurately reflect upon things and itself by thoughts and imagination as real energy originally non-existent, made actualized into abstraction outside of physical existence. Existence is simply the realm wherein that which exists does so as being physically real and actual. In other words, existence is exclusively the place wherein everything exists, including reality of which extends beyond its eternal origination, e.g., existence is the home, and reality opens the door.
FOREVER IS...
Everything always is and is always now...
A LOVE PROFOUND I DO SEE
Why do I love thee so with no love returned to me by thee?
Perhaps from this yearning, which sends my heart burning I'm now only learning
The state of my worthiness.
For Thy's beholden beauty be so great as to captivate my soul into a
Lovely dream beheld by me in a world where be it may seem out of place,
Yet deem it through time of more do I dream,
For seem it to me to not be hopeless.
Emotions stirring reveal my soul with wounds from worrying I try to heal,
By thoughts occurring in profound reflection,
With love that gives a kinder complexion to hope for and dream.
So thus, I tell to thee of my sincerity, for which I can only expect to see,
Thy's genuine love be given to me, if only I be a soul that's worthy.
For this I must accept, in my mind it has been kept,
And from delusion I have wept, but; no longer so glum will it seem.
From thoughts I discover the truth to uncover, of more than a lover,
For which I have sought and did find.
Though misery once found it is now unbound from within myself by a
Love profound that be forever cherished by only a happy and truthful mind.
Thus, in conclusion I rid the illusion from any confusion,
By learning the truth and how to allow the love within me to always be bound
Forever now, hence found - a love profound I do see.
KINDER EYES & BUTTERFLIES
Oh I wish I wish upon a star, that all is good both near and far.
I wish that lions would never roar, but purr like kittens on the floor.
I wish that rats were more like squirrels, with a furry tail that curls.
I wish that spiders weren't so creepy, more like possums, always sleepy.
I wish that snakes would never bite, and be like frogs who chirp all night.
I wish that bees would never sting, and be like birds who only sing.
I wish that badgers weren't so mean, and be like beavers who build and clean.
I wish that skunks wouldn't smell so bad, and grow like flowers on a Lilly pad.
I wish that weeds were more like roses, but with no "ouch!" the thorn imposes.
I wish that sharks would not attack, like my goldfish Jill and Jack.
I wish all grown-ups to always know, we need their love to smile and grow.
I wish all hate to go away, and let us children safely play.
I wish for every girl and boy, all the fun and peaceful joy.
I wish some day for wars to end, and every foe be turned to friend.
I wish a better world somehow, or is the world perfect now?
Oh I wish I wish from every shore, that I wish I wish to wish no more.
When you see the world with kinder eyes, the critters look more like butterflies.
THE RAVEN AND THE SPHINX
Dedicated to the Memory of my late brother, Lawrence Thomas Melich
A mostly calm and sunny day one could say with ease as an occasional breeze ruffles the raven's feathers and unnoticeably weathers the concrete facade of the sphinx. The laudable raven hovers in awe above the massive structure, letting out an audible "haw!" as he descends like a dove upon the sphinx's decaying paw. The raven looks up as he speaks:
"From very far I have flown though weary I may be, I heard your call from the thoughts of your mind and I'm anxious to find the details of this query you made to me."
The stoic sphinx begins to yearn for the answer he must learn to rid what he has hid from a dying world. No longer in want of this burden to tote and affirmation to seek, he clears his throat and begins to speak:
"As time passes and spirits mature, tell me raven for I am not sure, and because you seem to know the darker side of human nature; is the world ready for my divinity? You need not say anything but can if you may while I wait, for I'll know as well what is true when you indicate if your answer is no by disgracing my statue."
The raven shakes his head and says:
"Do not despair for though it may seem unfair in this unseemly world of so much evil, at your will you shall someday openly live in your glorious way."
"But not today," the sphinx replies, "for endless eons I have been waiting, even before I took this form on this planet of war."
The raven cocks his head and declares:
"I did not say that! For all you have created and discovered, you shall be elated when your soul's uncovered. So bold you were so long ago with what you learned and all you know. With passions desire your mind was on fire, thus came a very bright light without any wire. You were wise on that day not to share it, yet I dare say that you may in good time. You declare I say no when I did not say, when you are ready you will know, like birds from a cage without words in play on wisdom's stage."
"You somehow made me realize," the sphinx speaks excitedly, "I should not be so fast to dwell on the past as the future never comes, I see how from you that beyond all my ideas I can list, there is only the here and now that can ever exist."
"You've known that before in your youthful lot, and perhaps in your struggles galore you just forgot."
"Perhaps, and in my silly dream of a golden age of virtue when I deem on open stage all that I know is true. Yet you command and speak in riddles around my question like a dancer, now I demand that you give me an answer."
"I may seem Willy-nilly, but your dream is not silly. You are truly wise, and your thoughts are steady, so I see all along you have been ready."
"Ready to wait for my day, long after the wind has blown me away."
The raven flies straight up, hovers for a few seconds, then flies over to and lands on the sphinx's shoulder. He looks at the sphinx's face and laughs. The sphinx speaks indignantly:
"After you raise my spirits with your thoughtful praise; tell me why from the sky, with all I conceive and ever saw, you leave your droppings on my paw?"
The raven nods his head and says:
"Sorry to laugh I mean no disgrace; I just could not help it with that look on your face. My answer without words, and you may know why."
Given all he said on that fateful day, he lowers his head and flies away.
Alone now, while he reflects on his many paths of experience, wisdom and grace; a tear of both sadness and hope rolls down his weathered face. Perhaps he's right, he thinks to himself, in spite of my spirit's desire reaching ever higher and through so much turmoil and strife I might never be set free in this life. He quietly speaks to himself which reverberates within his soul and throughout existence:
"Thank you raven for your gift of patience..."
UPON ITSELF IT MUST BE...
In the bowels of endless cycles, reality's toll within existence we climb the walls we build and find protecting us from ourselves. Like children of nature's cauldron, we wonder about our lives, clawing at allusive disguise but for the few awakening conscious eyes; lost among the stars, lost among ourselves. Evil seeps through the careless cracks of a virtue fading away to indifference, like a politician's stealth in the descending layers of deceit. I unto myself am only me as you are you with whom to see in echoes from the source of souls set free; thus, upon itself it must be...
Crying out in the silence of darkness ripples from the light of both goodness and nuclear collision is the guiding energy in the space-less eternal web of existence born to it the imagination and self-aware thoughts of sentient beings. Alone in their place while together in inevitability meandering with the purpose and intent of free will, choices of various colors paint the four-dimensional canvas of our experiences and in my reflections of these considerations I see only of all what I can see; thus, upon itself it must be...
No one but I can do exactly as I do as I write these mysterious words reflective of my unique, particular experiences, style, emotional responses, and thoughts racing through my mind like the speeding particles of matter. Everyone is different in many ways both known and unknown, like snowflakes forming, falling, melting, and forever forming again like the countless stars in endless reoccurring patterns. Time gets lost in the universe's heartbeat of flowing energy like the perpetual tides of the sea; thus, upon itself it must be...
Who am I to say but to all I say as to who I am? Born into this world within reality's eternal domain no different in manner to anyone else, and in that the only likeness in identities is in the condition that all identities are truly unique. To this I write for only my own joy and to express both the concrete particulars and abstract meanings a deeper perspective to consider. For in the wake of our being by choice we live as we do, whether by truth or against it we must at least face ourselves in full acceptance of who and what we are in the struggle of overcoming our faults with the strength of our virtues, lest we drift away in the beast of self-pity like particles of dust scattered aimlessly by the wind. Let us recognize, myself included, the fact that we are in ourselves deciding by our own hands the type of journey we pave along the changing yet ever-present domain of our own existence within the existence of all and what shall ever be; thus, upon itself it must be...
LITTLE DITTLE'S
Writing is like entering an abyss of human experience and emerging wondrously from a colorful field of imagination.
Some of the simplest things in life are the most amazing.
Gentler is the more active soul, for kindness requires more effort.
Color thy life joyous and beautiful with the profound responsibility of being kind.
Celebrating life for its own sake requires the wisdom of acceptance with an active mind.
Life is...
Year by year, day by day, moment by moment you choose how you feel; choose well.
A strong sense of purpose is allusive to those who only seek answers outside of themselves.
I tried escaping from myself, but I kept running into me.
Self-reliance mixed with an equal measure of kindness is a good recipe for long-term survival.
It's a beautiful thing when competing perspectives can reach a conclusion of understanding in the spirit of expanding each other's knowledge and wisdom simply by looking at something in a different way.
Thinking adds value in many immeasurable ways.
Thinking is doing, and that's what I like to do.
It's impossible to stop thinking while you're thinking about not thinking.
You have to be in the box in order to think outside of it. That's what I call thinking outside of thinking outside of the box.
A contradiction can only exist as a thought in the mind, not as a fact in reality.
A circle squared is still a circle.
Falling trees create a disturbance in the atmosphere whether or not there is an ear drum to be vibrated by it.
Viewing sacrifice as an expense rather than a complete loss in order to achieve a desired outcome, I think, is a better way to inspire a greater willingness to work hard.
Determining appropriate measures with the right perspective is critical to any endeavor.
Exercise is important because motion is essential and everywhere.
Drink mostly water, eat healthy, exercise daily, laugh often, think deeply, and question everything.
Excessive waste equals excessive waists.
The answer is for each and every individual is to think objectively and act responsibly.
Things built with integrity and love carry more meaning and purpose.
The deepest aspects of human nature are reflected within the nature of our actions.
The only way to beat Murphy's Law is to accept it.
Sometimes forgetting opens up your mind to new revelations.
We tend to forget the things we need the most.
Reality catches up with us all, whether it be good or bad.
When reality bites you in the ass often enough, eventually, you'll have no place to sit down.
Don't try to defeat reality or it will defeat you.
Just as you think you're cheating reality, reality cheats you back.
I'm stubborn because reality is.
Reality is everything.
So, what's really happening? - The electromagnetic and gravitational forces of atoms and molecules constantly attract and repel each other in various speeds and intensity, thereby making up all existing matter in the universe, which is expanding.
The universe can appear unconfined with eternal expansion, but because it's infinitely directional and self-contained with nothing existing outside of it, it can only race toward itself and, therefore, is in endless cycles of inward, self-generating relative motion.
It can only be the way it is.
Make the truth your ally, and it will work in your favor.
Truth makes everything catch up to itself.
Truth is ultimately all that really matters.
Live for the truth, and the truth will live for you.
The more you align your values with truth, the more that truth will align with you.
Use truth and reason as your guide, and you will thrive in the long run.
Those grounded in the solid foundation of truth are the strongest in virtue.
Living by truth is often the more difficult path.
Black and white together make gray. So, within any gray area lies the black and white of truth.
Gray is sometimes as what can be interpreted when the whole truth is not known, but the truth itself is always black and white in the sense that it only exists as it does, even when it looks gray.
Reason will always be the ultimate victor in the battle for justice and truth.
The only thing outside of existence is nothing.
Nothing exists outside of existence.
Existence is the absence of nothing.
Every aspect of being can only exist exactly as it does, or it does not exist at all.
Be self-aware without being self-conscious.
Because it's always now, we're not changing anything. We're just doing.
It's always here and now, everywhere and all the time.
Eternity is not a long time. It's just always now. Therefore, zero is the closest number to infinity...
Zero and infinity are merely concepts used to place relative actualities into more comprehensible perspectives.
Existence is the realm of everything as both within and all throughout itself.
Nothing ever happens any differently than it does.
Things only happen as they do.
Eventually, all things change because they have to; and actually, they constantly do.
Everything has everything to do with everything.
Anything can be odd because everything is different.
Everything is about the combination of everything.
It's all about everything.
Everything affects everything.
None of us are ever really going anywhere as we strive for a better life in multi-layered, differentiating circles.
No matter how good it is, we can always do better.
A more grateful and positive perspective of understanding history while applying effective foresight is essential to the acquisition of a better life.
Eternity fills every moment with endless beginnings...
All roads in eternity lead back to their origins.
Be fully in the moment with a deep respect for the past, for that is what led to the present, which in turn leads to a future that never really comes as it constantly and forever transforms into the here and now.
Lost we are amongst the stars, only here for mindful caring no matter where we are.
No matter what anyone does, history cannot be altered because whatever happens only happens as it does.
Time is a tool created for measuring motion and synchronizing events.
The fact that we can change time (daylight savings and standard) proves that it's merely a human construct that wouldn't exist without us.
Time began when we created it.
What is the source of the source of all being? Another god? ... another god of that, and another, and another ... Therefore, there's either an infinite number of sources or no source at all.
I've spent most of my thinking life in pursuit of discovering the ultimate source of all being. Now that I've found it, I feel like a fool for not seeing something so simple and obvious sooner. All I had to do was to throw away the concept of time.
Understanding existence has brought me to a very lonely place. Sometimes, I regret it, yet I wouldn't change it for anything.
We are all but on a cosmic ride in endless cycles of chaos and order. - Inspired by Jordan B. Peterson.
Avoid overcomplication through extraneous extrapolation.
Too much chaos can be prevented by understanding how it comes about.
Going from chaos back to order is very difficult and ironically chaotic.
Complexity is interesting and sometimes blocks out clarification of the more obvious aspects of truth.
Blurring the meaning of words blurs the effectiveness of communication.
Falsehood is real, but not actual.
Real is what exists.
Actual is what's true of what exists.
That which is real isn't always actual, but that which is actual is always real.
Legitimate is that which lines up with actuality.
Reactuality (my word) is when reality and actuality are the same. This occurs when something real accurately describes its identity, and/or its purpose and what it represents.
Distinguishing perception from actuality allows you to see more deeply.
Make sacrifice a non-sacrifice by looking at it as a necessary means to a positive end. In this manner, it isn't really a sacrifice, but an expense; a price to pay to acquire or produce real value, whether it be immediate or long-term.
Resistance against the difficulties of improvement is ironic because those resisting want to follow the path of least resistance.
Utopia is a delusion of trying to get something from nothing.
Most people are good. When the few bad ones surface, they can negatively influence the weak-minded who lack moral fortitude.
We all must face our inner demons in order to keep them at bay.
We create our inner demons by following the path of least resistance and dropping our moral guardrails.
The perfect crime would be the one that forces the criminal to see the wrong in what he did and to redeem himself with forgiveness.
When comparing the stages of an individual life with humanity as a whole, I would say that we're in our adolescent stage of spiritual development.
Great art cries out with the powerful chords of transcendent beauty.
True beauty is that which transcends the soul to the infinite.
Since consciousness recognizes reality while being a part of it, perhaps that is what the metaphysical substrate of reality is, reflecting as echoes from the subconscious.
Our lives are but mere echoes from the reflections of our thoughts.
Sound can be the means by which one uses to determine the source of certain things that appear as visually elusive. You may also add to or subtract from the quantitative nature of that which needs to be identified as either potential or actuality.
Make the right choice, not the easy one, unless the right one is easy.
Choose or choose not to choose, make your choice.
Understand what is right based on truth, so you can do what is good based on itself.
Truth is the ultimate arbiter of justice.
Balance of truth is the key to justice.
Philosophy that's consistent with truth is essential to a proper mode of living for developing a strong sense of purpose within a sustainable framework.
True philosophy recognizes that in order for existence to exist, it must be true.
Everything should be dealt with by what is proper in accordance with truth and human decency.
All factors need to be considered in every situation regardless of perceptions and interpretations.
Natural, it is for us to evolve into a higher state of being, yet it seems equally natural when we turn against ourselves. We humans are truly an odd species.
Most of the problems that plague humankind can be solved or even prevented through honesty.
The government sucks the thrill out of fun, the comfort out of luxury, the ownership out of property, the value out of money, the money out of pockets, the pleasure out of joy, the purpose out of meaning, and the happiness out of life.
The government too often uses power over reason through over-regulation, over-taxation, and deceptive propaganda.
We must establish the proper guidelines that allow for a balanced approach to free trade without too much interference that would stifle growth. These guidelines can only be determined through experience.
We need a proper balance between the separation of political powers and the power of separating emotional influence from the intellectual clarity of seeing things as they actually are and what is essential to make things better.
Power to independence is the proper balance of power.
Rights come from truth recognized by reason.
Outlawing guns is as stupid as outlawing knives, rocks, and baseball bats.
Communists need to get a clue and give up on their evil ways by shrugging their collective shoulders and joining the better part of human nature.
The fall of tyranny parallels with the rise of freedom.
It seems ironic that freedom often costs more than anything else.
Going after profit without regard to negative consequences will continue until it catches up to itself, and painful corrections are made out of necessity.
Wars are like kids fighting. Humanity needs to grow up!
Benefits are only legitimate when they don't come at the expense of someone else's unwanted loss.
Anything stolen will always be reconciled by the balancing act of truth correcting itself.
Connect the dots into a straight line.
No matter the money system, the quality of life is ultimately determined by human behavior.
Any system, no matter how good, is destined to fail when it's not properly followed and maintained.
The road to freedom is a bumpy ride.
Most of the world's problems can be solved simply by people making the effort to think and act with integrity.
The purpose of government is to keep things from racing out of control, like the governor mechanism on a car engine.
The tentacles of evil spread widely with stealth until revealed when they strike.
Evil uses the deception of false promises of glory without the struggles or strife that comes from the work necessary to obtain it.
It's never enough for communists to destroy their own people. They have to kill anyone and everyone who is independent, free, and happy. Eventually, they self-destruct as a result of acting against human nature.
Decriminalizing criminals to eliminate criminals is like making everything legal to eliminate crime.
Most people know what the right thing to do is, so when they don't, they don't want to be known.
Those who are enemies of freedom are enemies of themselves.
The degree of self-denial is equivalent to the degree of deceptive behavior.
The road of moral grayness is destined to be lined in blood.
We must save ourselves from each other.
Balance is the key to the equation of justice.
The electoral college is essential to the proper proportional representation of all the states in accordance with population size.
Swear without swearing: fut (f*ck), futter (f*cker), futicked up (f*cked up), mutter futter (mother f*cker), stit (sh*t), bullstit (bullsh*t), pasturd (b*sturd), titch (b*tch), hasspole (ass*ole), got tam it (God d*mn it), cheezits (Jesus), cheezits rice! (Jesus Christ).
Profit is good, but when it's through legitimate and mutual exchanges from your own efforts and without the expense of anyone else's unwanted loss through deception.
Get a Virtual Private Network like Express VPN, and you'll keep hackers from stealing your property and the government from spying on your internet activity.
If I could control the weather, I would make it 72 degrees (Faren height) at 30% humidity with a 72-degree wind chill 24/7, and it would only rain (with or without thunder and lightning), sleet or hail at night; I don't mind it snowing or having blizzards, hurricanes, typhoons, tornadoes, water spouts, dust bowls, mudslides, sinkholes, tsunamis, earthquakes, astroid and comet impacts, ice ages or magnetic pole reversals during the day.
If you control your own mind, then no one will control you as long as you don't allow it by preserving your identity with the joy of dignity and the strength of self-awareness.
Do not get involved with what I call group-non-think. Individualism is the key, and thinking sets you free...
Drinking saved my soul, and sobriety saved the rest of me.
It would be pointless to have existence without life, and life without meaning.
Understanding that which is, parallels with the understanding of that which can never be.
Nothing is for never.
Nothing, unlike other words, whose meaning renders it incapable of representing anything, including itself, is that it cannot even represent a form of expression as a way of thinking or feeling, but to only exist as a word that is impossible to emulate or adequately describe but for to define its existence as impossible to exist at any point in the past, present, or future. Therefore, nothing is for never because not even nothing can exist in a complete void of non-existence.
If nothing existed, not even nothing would.
No thing is nothing.
The truth is only self-evident to those who can understand it.
If everyone where to live for others, there would be no others left to live for.
It's okay to be a fool as long as you don't get fooled by one.
Having much wisdom with little knowledge is promising, but having much knowledge with little wisdom is dangerous.
Having knowledge with wisdom proceeds from the wisdom of having knowledge.
With wisdom comes the integrity of applying knowledge with wisdom.
Wisdom applies knowledge with integrity.
Intelligence can, wisdom does.
Artificial intelligence equals artificial reality, which is impossible to actually exist. No matter how you try, you can't escape reality. Reality will always catch up to itself. It's better to face reality, be honest, and work hard.
It is unwise to use intelligence as an excuse for laziness.
Stupidity from ignorance reflects the ignorance from stupidity.
Reflection of imagination is the imagination of reflection.
Perception of reality is the reality of perception.
Any part of reality is the reality of that part of any part of reality.
You should want what you need because you need what you want.
Wanting what you need is from needing what you want.
It seems like the smarter you are, the more difficult it is to be wise.
The wisest among us are often the servants.
To paraphrase Aristotle, "wisdom is doing the right thing at the right time, for the right reason, to the right extent, and in the right manner."
Perfection in human terms comes in the form of honesty.
Follow the path of highest virtue.
Thinking of a task as easy can help to make it easier, no matter how difficult it is. (Easier said than done.)
Less can be more unless it's not enough and more can be less unless it's not too much.
Sooner becomes later when it's not soon enough; and later becomes sooner when it's not too late.
Life without death would be meaningless.
Living without rights is like thinking without thoughts; it really can't be done.
Death is a necessary consequence of life; without it, we'd lose purpose.
Death is inevitable, so you may as well look forward to it in a positive way.
Thank existence; otherwise, nothing.
Be content in knowing that change is constant and eternal...
Whatever happens only happen as it does.
Positive change is often difficult and can be painful.
Pure effort is hard; have fun with it.
There are times when I have so much time on my hands that I find myself running out of the means to spend it.
No matter the situation, how you initiate action and respond to others is completely up to you. Understanding that with acceptance when making a mistake makes it a reason, avoiding it through self-denial makes it an excuse.
It's all to do about how you live, which is all to do about how you think.
It's amazing to see, to what ends people will go to avoid thinking and to not realize the nature of their own actions.
We should do all we can to preserve and encourage free speech and freedom in general, not by forcing it on other countries, but by allowing its natural forces of kindness and prosperity to flow in abundance and overpower the darker forces of oppression.
I love reality because there is nothing you can do to avoid it.
Don't use inevitability as an excuse for failure.
Creativity is the best source for defying what's thought of as impossible.
Destiny is the consequence of choices.
Potential can only exist in the past because it's only proven to be potential when it serves its purpose and no longer exists.
Forgive those who never forgive others and pity others who never forgive themselves.
Plant the seeds of goodness and nourish them with love.
The effect of the cause is the cause of the effect.
It's easier to hate difficulty than to love the difficulty of making it easier.
You can't have a good sense of humor without a valid sense of reality.
The truth can only set you free when you are free from the shackles of ignorance.
Happiness requires the wisdom of liberating oneself from the prison walls of ignorance.
Happiness has found me through wisdom.
Happiness requires gratitude without envy.
Freedom requires responsibility in order to endure.
Stay true to yourself and happiness will follow.
Happiness is an unstoppable force.
Happiness is the ultimate goal and purpose of our existence.
The key to changing the world is through self-improvement.
Get all the joy you can from all the good you can do.
No matter where or who you are, it's all here and now with nothing but what is.
Seeing the truth objectively creates a bigger expanse of common ground we can all stand on.
Life will always be a difficult struggle. Love it and embrace it, and happiness will follow.
Living by truth is often the more difficult path.
Knowing an exact problematic situation while having much experience with similar ones can help better determine exactly what needs to be done.
Humanity is like an equation; it either rises while balancing itself with an adequate amount of awareness, or it falls from being outweighed by the complacency of self-denial.
Go with the flow of freedom.
We the people need to be united by what is good and right based on truth.
We are all but slaves to the immutable laws of reality.
We're all energy connected by the unseen energy within everything, which is the essence of existence.
Every aspect of everything real is ultimately bound together by the absolute nature of reality.
It's never really said and done until you realize that everyone is no one but themselves.
The nature of nothing is such that it is only there as that which is not there.
Destiny is the consequence of actualized potential.
The only thing that is real is everything.
Nothing is ever something it is not.
*Nothing and space are the same in that what they represent doesn't actually exist, but the representations' (words) of their non-existence does.
*Inspired by Cheri Reeder.
Everything within the framework of existence reciprocates in qualitative being to the extent of its intrinsic integrity with the actualized potential of reality. In other words, the quality of what immediately exists is determined by its relative truthfulness to that which is meant to be.
Mind, body, and soul are one. Treating them separately creates inner turmoil.
The number one cause of death is living. So, if you don't want to die, then stop living. - Ha-ha!
Philosophy is important because how you think is a reflection of how you live, and how you live is what it's all about.
The type of world we live in is determined by the types of choices we make.
A person's character is reflected in their actions.
Gratitude in proper measure brings abundance.
True happiness follows from the wisdom of integrity.
It can only be as it is.
Actuality is the truth of what is.
Reality is what is.
I only had, but for what I did; as I only have, but for what I do.
Much of what I have is because of what I did; the rest of what I have is because of what I do.
I am me, happy and free...
HOW MUCH DEEPER SHALL I GO?
Why does existence exist as it does? Perhaps it does as the only way it can, as it can no other way than it does. This may seem obvious in light of what is in front of us in the immediate moment, but given all the difficulties intermixed with all the variables as an infinite array of both potential endeavors and actualities in the human experience and imagination; how much deeper shall I go?
There is no doubting of the obvious facts that present themselves in the livelihood of what awakens our awareness to direct contact by our perceptions; but what of the deeper recesses of our minds that tickles part of the soul and seems to bring us back to the point from whence we came? Beyond our birth, beyond our senses that tell us we must exist, beyond the confirmation by our fellow beings of consciousness that we are all but part of a greater mystery in the wheel of eternity; how much deeper shall I go?
Those who dare to conjecture shall we go down the proverbial rabbit hole, dare I say they know not what they say as they say it so casually as if it is a mere matter of fact. Perhaps more than that it may very well be as thus, yet whether it be ignored or acknowledged through doubt as much as you may there is no way to defy that which will happen is happening as it can, made inevitable by it happening only as it does; how much deeper shall I go?
We come to this point in its point in time and place as to where and when it can only be and thus to where it has been, where it is now, and were it will be. Here I am, here you are, here is here in the here and now. Point of all points in the universe of infinite points can only take us to this point which is the only point when and where we can be because we are here, and that is the point. There is nothing we can do to change the point of our current state of being but to envelope with complete acceptance of what is and to shape the nature of our experience within our scope of ability to consciously choose the wiser path of virtue in align with unchangeable truth which shall either set us free or enslave us in misery if we should decide to act against it; how much deeper shall I go?
How can I conclude this expression of all what I see and understand as the inevitable state we find ourselves in which may be both the result of past endeavors beyond our present control, and our current responsibilities to learn from the past mistakes of those before us and live our lives in present as best we can? What else is there but the infinite expanse of both our souls and the universe of existence; how much deeper shall I go? To the depths of all that is...
MY EQUATION
Nothing only exists as a word, an abstract representation of that which cannot exist. The reason electrons and positrons appear to materialize in a void is a matter of perspective. It's not that these particles of energy are coming into existence, rather they already exist, and the void is disappearing. Time is merely a human construct used to measure motion as a means of synchronous reference for organizing interactive events. As such time doesn't really exist outside of our experiences, leaving existence without beginning or end. The universe is not expanding away from us as we are moving along within it, nor is it expanding away from itself; instead, it is being pulled back onto itself within its eternal cycle which has neither past or future and is forever now. Given that and my belief that things, occurrences, and evolving conditions can only be as they are, it would; therefore, upon immediate subsequent consideration, seem that the unified theory of everything would simply be 1. Yet that cannot be, because it would render the universe as static; for motion is essential to matter's existence, and matter's existence is the essential counter to non-existence. It therefore must be of a value infinitely less than one, so that all corporeal entities are infinitely divisible by themselves with variances of relative sizes and densities among their particles of matter. These qualitative differences create the angular momentum necessary to the formation of numerous elements, which, every now and then, leads to life and consciousness. Therefore, reality is real in and of itself with all things in constant motion and (in my opinion) thereby making the unified theory of everything to equal 1 - 1/infinity.
THE UNIVERSE WITHIN ITSELF...
I believe the universe within itself is timelessly eternal. It's shape I imagine as a multi-dimensional, figure eight circle of relative space, matter, and energy which never began and will never end. It is infinite in size relative to only itself as nothing exists outside of it. The inward flow of energy countering the outward flow, forms a figure eight, which must be slightly asymmetrical in order for its motion to be perpetual as these forces counterbalance each other simultaneously to externally form a perfectly circular sphere. If for what we conceive of as the known universe is only one of countless other universes existing in a multiverse is true, then perhaps our universe is really a super-galactic structure within a much larger universe. It is my contention that there can only be one ultimate place wherein everything exists, both throughout the realm of existence and from within itself...
UPON REFLECTION
Walking through leaves on unfamiliar ground,
Windy songs of dances are flowing all around.
Bare branches of cold whisper gentle light,
Bird's peaceful concert spring into flight.
Wandering as I do with all that I see,
Passing fields of beauty unknown to me.
Know not my calling yet my path is true,
Underlying a knowing in all that I do.
Cometh does man both wicked and wise,
Oddly as natural as the sunrise.
Buildings rise toward heaven's reprieve,
From whence the mind at first conceive.
Like birds in flight of fancy maneuver,
Need more than just to turn and hover.
Structures achieved in air of permanence,
To falling decay in fading resonance.
Though in a lifetime it may not seem,
Everything withers like a fading dream.
Chasing happiness in evolving ways,
Like allusive butterflies in our gaze.
A sudden reprise when only we pause,
The joy in knowing the reflective cause.
From reflections within I have no doubt,
Happiness echoes and spreads throughout.
EOCHOES FROM WITHIN
Memories flow like a breeze rustling leaves in swaying trees as notes in the eternal song of existence.
Footsteps on the ground imprinted gently all around like a sound disturbing the calm of empty resistance.
The past is gone though I see at last its flowing wake is vast in waves of energy dancing as echoes in the presence.
Life's tapestry does show where the seeds of color grow from the roots I know in painted landscapes of acquiescence.
Throughout origination within my imagination echoes with clarification the sum of my being in its very essence.
Tattered and jaded by darkness invaded a joy that has faded in the shadows of my childhood innocence.
I onto myself I must forgive so I can live with all I can give in complete from my soul with truth and benevolence.
Thus is my choice I truly rejoice in my genuine voice that echoes from within by every word in every sentence.
ECHOES OF WHAT IS...
Echoes of what is reverberate from source to destination like the particles of sunlight streaming through space that enter our atmosphere to form waves which color the landscape of shifting perceptions. Just as the various colors add beauty to our world, our various emotions can make life more interesting. For a universe without life would have no purpose, and life without consciousness would have no meaning. Yet with so much senseless evil abound, I can see how easily it would be to stray from having a strong sense of purpose. Therefore, do we give life meaning or does life have its own meaning? Maybe both are true.
The mysteries of our experiences as conscious beings following different paths often appear as circular events that bring us back to the point from where we began. The quest for a sense of purpose alludes those who seek answers outside of themselves, especially those who try to reach the impossible state of permanent satisfaction. From that, like the countless patterns of stars shaped by the forces in the universe, our lives can seem to be out of phase with the natural order of things. Is this order an illusion, or is our perception of it merely inaccurate? Finding the answer may be easier than you think.
Like light and shadow can deceive our eyes to what is actually there, so can our minds deceive us through preconceptions of what is actually occurring in any particular circumstance. So how do we know when we're right or wrong? Undeniable outcomes can directly or indirectly shed light, yet one can easily still doubt the clear and obvious. One thing is certain, there can only be one truth to the actuality of any condition or event as to how it exists at its present.
Human life is so interesting and dynamic with so many changing variables whether in concert with or drifting away from what is natural to both humanity and the intrinsic laws responsible for all that is. Words can seem to fall short of fully describing such a state of being which can only exist as it does versus the harmful attempts to defy reality and the unstoppable consequences of destiny. Thus, it is into the eternal landscape of various forms of matter and energy we find ourselves lost among the stars as we question our own existence and that of existence itself from our perspectives on the
Echoes of what is...
GOD'S MIRROR
Since it is widely accepted that God created man in his own image, is it then man's own ability given to him by his creator to recognize that his ability to originate thoughts at his own free will to further understand his acquisition of being, and which may be but a part of his own creation of self-awareness? Clearly then, is it not that man has been given the ability to create an idea from nothing but his mind? Or is it merely an aspect of direct experience that has landed man from God from his direct experience from nothing to the something we find ourselves existing in, to which we seem unable to explain? Could it be surmised that as we are but in his dominion of all he knows and understands, which brings us to the dilemma of knowing the origins of his own existence? Are we not then as in God's image of himself at the same mercy to the inability to explain the existence of existence? All we thus can know is all that which exists, exists in parallel to the origin of existence created in the same mystery as reflected in God's mirror. Perhaps God could then merely be a reflection of our own thinking, yet existence can only be a reflection of itself. Logic would then dictate that there is either no God, or that God needs to be redefined as not the source of everything, but as the essence of everything and is the one thing that exists within everything: like the most common denominator in mathematics. Since time is merely a construct to measure motion, it doesn't really exist outside of our consciousness, making existence itself without time. Without time, it never began and will never end. It's just eternally now. With the essence of existence being the reflection of itself, and God's mirror being the reflection of truth, then nothing created existence, and God is truth.
SHADOWS FROM BEAUTY'S LIGHT
In Loving Memory of Mollie Tibbetts
"Cometh to us an angel's blessing unseen by descending plight." - Anonymous
Like a beautiful butterfly a young girl is running at night,
Ugliness approaches; creeping, stalking, following her,
A shadow without a name, unable to stall her spirit's flight,
Failing to rise by not leaving her be, he falls to murder.
Tragic is this loser fool, to ever ignore life's infinite light,
Instead, he descends to the darker depths of pitiful evil,
Crawling and slithering in his ashes of plundering plight,
And seeking solace by bringing terror from his demented will.
At neglect of beauty shining above the shadows of self-denial,
And his deception of illegal freedom through our border wall,
He'll be confronted by truth itself, putting his life on trial,
Guilty as charged, and from justice comes the reaping of his fall.
Taken from us was a beautiful soul with a beautiful smile,
A smile that lit up every room with boundless joy and love,
From deep within us woeful sorrow, and yet all the while,
Comes a higher calling to a higher purpose from within and above.
We all have choices we must make, it is done by our own hand,
Accepting this then we can see, there's no escape from what we do,
Our struggling nature must evolve, while on the ground we stand,
Into virtuous ways throughout this land, with the wisdom of being true.
PATTERNS IN THE VIRGIN SNOW
The innocence of childhood is too often lost and led astray by the lure of evil temptation.
Flowering fields of paradise abound with its unseen beauty hidden beneath the shadows by the darker side of nature.
Children playing in winter, lying on their backs making snow angels while their imaginations run wild with the untainted pleasures of purity, unaware of man's corruption.
So are thus the many things of man, some good, some bad, where the young and old alike shone by virtue or clouded by fear are given display by the patterns in the virgin snow.
Oh, joyful life made weary by gloom if hidden light goes unseen beyond the walls of discontent made thus by shallow ignorance and empty disillusionment.
It does not have to be thus but for a positive outlook on the obstacles and challenges of life made exciting and rewarding with fulfilment of active and happy spirit.
Weep at the foolishly given woes with passionate eyes of wisdom and elation, for life is of reality lived in by either truth or falsehood, timeless and imprinted by the patterns in the virgin snow.
Virgin snow, virgin snow, once so very white and pure, dirtied by the chaotic noise of evil, only to be overcome by the purifying warmth and kindness of a fresh layer of compassionate snow, un-wanting of another disturbance.
Behold human life by nature pure but for the choice of darkness, forever exposed and dissolved by the light of goodness and truth.
Who but the fool plays the fool's card of sin, yet may he see and come to understand the deck is not stacked against him, for the joker is wild in unlimited potential.
Thus, the whole of human life within the framework of existence poses colorful markings in the void of eternal space in the form of both natural and misguided events, which from source to destination, known or unknown, are forever expressed by the patterns in the virgin snow.
CELEBRATIONS
Celebrating life for its own sake requires the wisdom of acceptance with an active mind. You'd be surprised what you can learn and understand when you think more creatively with a clear vision and the right focus. It's simply a matter of considering various perspectives while further developing your own in a more broadly and objective manner. Once you see things and yourself more deeply and clear without doubting your true intentions, you'll unwittingly find yourself in a place from which there is no desire to escape. Then you can congratulate yourself, for the butterflies of happiness have arrived without you chasing after them as you continue on your journey of both struggle and reward with the gratitude of having the freedom to celebrate.
THE MIST ON MY GLASSES
It was 3 a.m. on a warm and moist summer morning. I was on my way to the job I landed, which was 23 miles from my San Diego home, my humble apartment of warmth, comfort, and sanctuary from a cold world of irrationality and senseless violence. I pulled my head from my pillow and my body from the bed of my restful delight and engaged my mind with a myriad of possibilities from an over-active imagination. With the very bright light on my Tommasini steel, road bicycle, I made my way through the darkness to the warehouse job that challenged the constitution of my spirit. The work itself I made the most of by performing it to the best of my ability, in spite of my disdain of what appeared to me within my coworkers as shallow indifference. I prefer to see the world as a place full of beauty and mysterious wonder, but I allowed my negative impressions of the people around me to darken my outlook. I had considered my early morning commute as more of an obligation for immediate survival, rather than a source of joy that productive work should yield.
Along my journey I came upon a poster on a streetlight that caught my attention. It described a young, lost girl who ran away from home and was contemplating suicide. As I gathered myself and moved on, I could not help but to sympathize with such a desperation as an understandable escape from the cruel world we live in. Yet there is in the sanction we create for ourselves our own space of sacred domain; whether real or imagined, which no one can touch save for the weakness we allow to enter from the hatred of others toward our better selves. It is easier to surrender to the darker side of our nature than to fight for the preservation of our dignity. As these thoughts quickly flashed through my mind, I powered my way through the lonely darkness which was thickly saturated by the descending patches of fog. The moisture collected on my perspiring skin and made the clear safety glasses distort my view by the glare from the passing streetlights.
Nearing my destination on a long descent which I had previously clocked in daylight, averaging between 30 - 35 mph. My sense of security from the brightness of my light was swept away by the glare on my misty glasses. I ignored my uncertainty and assumed the road as clear from dangerous obstructions. I increased my pedaling cadence from the excitement of going fast. I foolishly kept increasing my speed, feeling my blood pumping from a racing heart. I was in tune with both my heightened senses and the quiet stillness of my surroundings with the heavy air whistling through my ears. The brief moments of glare visited upon my glasses with each streetlight I approached and went by. As I continued increasing my pace when suddenly and most unexpectedly; as life would have it like the occasional mishaps during thrilling moments of complete control and confidence, under the blinding glare from a passing streetlight, an obstruction in my path introduced itself to my front wheel. Such are the moments that often come along at a point closer to our destinations, to disrupt the purpose of our goals; be it from a simple desire of immediate action to the very essence of our life's personal meaning. I somersaulted through the air, going end-over-end and crashing my left shoulder onto the handlebars. The forward flip happened so fast, yet the moment of adrenaline had sent my consciousness into a long suspension of disbelief. I had a bad crash a few months prior and thoughts of that flooded my mind as I thought to myself, oh no, here I go again, about to skid along the hard, unforgiving ground. It strangely felt like a long time in the air before I hit the ground. At the time I was surprised that it didn't seem to hurt that much as I skidded along the ground, the crux of my left foot got a deep cut from the gears on the crank, my right knee formed a raspberry through my flesh to the bone, as well it had to my left elbow. My biking shorts and jersey became shredded with large patches of dirt and blood. At the time it didn't seem like I was ever going to stop sliding. When I finally did, I saw that my bicycle was about 20 feet ahead of me. I pealed myself from the ground and loudly cried out among the laughing crickets, "what the fut was that? What the hell did I hit?" Out of curiosity I hobbled back about 40 or 50 feet to see what it was. It was a very large mud flap in its broken and bent metal frame. It looked like it came from a tractor trailer. It was upturned with its high ended frame facing me from the direction I was going on the bike. It formed the shape of a ramp. If it were facing the other direction, it probably wouldn't have caused me to crash, or in the least would not have caused me to flip. Just my luck. The timing of the glare was unfortunate. There wasn't any traffic in the immediate area, but I could hear the light freeway traffic off in the distance. I gathered myself again and hobbled to my bike. The chain fell off the chain ring, which I easily installed by positioning the chain partially on the chain ring, lifting the back wheel off the ground and slowly pedaled forward with my other hand on one of the pedals until it went on the rest of the way. The handlebar assembly was turned away from its proper position. I was able to reposition it by holding the front wheel between my legs and turning it straight. I was only about one and a half miles from the warehouse and was able to slowly ride there. As I approached the building, I began to notice the pain.
The raspberries were very painful in the shower; thank goodness they had one. As I showered off the blood-stained road dirt and chain grease from my injured body, there were a couple of other workers who heard my groans. I was the delivery driver and hydraulic hose builder. My left arm was in too much pain to move it normally or lift anything of any weight. With blood bleeding through the soaked bandages, I loaded the truck with some heavy wheels and industrial parts for the first run. After retuning and cleaning the blood from the front seat of the truck, I inquired on the hoses that needed to be built. My boss, upon noticing the blood dripping from my makeshift bandages, suggested that I quit for the day and I see my doctor. I told him I was alright and that it wasn't necessary for me to leave in spite of the nagging pain from my exposed elbow bone and kneecap under the bloodied cloth loosely dangling from my limbs. I reluctantly agreed to take the rest of the day off. About thirty minutes later as I waited for my girlfriend to pick me up, my left shoulder had become so painful that I could not raise my arm which I held tightly against me with my elbow immobilized at a 90-degree angle. I thought for sure that I broke my collarbone, but it was only badly bruised.
Thinking back on it I'm amazed at how the seemingly smallest and insignificant things we don't pay much attention to, can dramatically alter the course of our everyday lives. My lesson: do not take anything for granted. Do sweat the small stuff, because sometimes it is the little things like stopping on the road to wipe the mist from my glasses that can make all the difference in the world.
D-DAY INFANT SOLDIER
Imagine total darkness without knowing either light or dark. Imagine breathing liquid without knowing liquid, air, or solid substance. Imagine a sudden brightness without knowing light or shadow. Imagine sudden noises without knowing sound or silence. Imagine impending doom without knowing the evil malice of bottomless darkness. Imagine hanging on by your fingernails to the hope that all of humankind must aspire to a virtue of pure joy on absolute integrity seemingly as unreachable as the farthest star while realizing that it may only be as close in potential to what is held within the heart of all our souls.
Trained and hardened to the battle against the adversary of our freedom, the infant soldier is made ready in strategic formation for the coming assault with near impossible odds of survival. As an infant soldier not experiencing firsthand the combat of man against man, piercing rounds of ammunition, mortars exploding and grenades tearing off limbs and spilling guts in gallons of blood; he must put himself on his own conscious choice to risk unimaginable pain and possible death. Yet to his innocence of putting himself in harm's way he has but a spark of divinity to drive himself beyond all sane choices for the immediate moment, and to embark on the journey toward the ultimate goal of all humanity to live in the natural state of self-determination and genuine happiness.
Dropping from the skies in darkness of night upon enemy lines and landing upon the shores of certain slaughter; the infant soldier advances upon the enemy of freedom, love, and the natural purpose of human livelihood. Fired upon in the blue shores turning red with the lifeblood of patriots defying the actions against the enemies of humanity, they march forward without complaint for it is better to die fighting for the endless joys of liberty than to live under the infinite darkness, torture, depravity, and hapless servitude of tyranny. For country, honor, integrity, and a higher sense of living; the infant soldier fights on.
Like climbing the endlessly steep walls of falling slime with nothing to grab onto except the courage of dignity and the valor of honorable ascent to the heavens of benevolence; the infant soldier, after several waves of wanton death climbs the cliffs to overtake the sub-human creatures firing upon them. With so many of their brothers of faith and endless alliance to all that is right and virtuous befallen by only death in body, the infant soldier marches on to knock the Nazi Germans back on their heels and defeat their occupation of the U.S. allied foreign grounds in France. A major and necessary victory not only in the immediate battle, not only in the war, but in the hearts of all humanity striving for the glory, the peace, and the prosperity of our natural birthright of freedom.
The infant soldier, so many of whom died as the heroes of all humanity for all time, lives on in the spirit world of eternal divinity. Beyond even that, as we look upon those few survivors of ever ascending virtue made by their undying commitment to truth, freedom and liberty, and to the core of all that is truly sacred; we must never forget their valor and sacrifice for we would not have the rights we enjoy today if it were not for their incredible acts of bravery.
To the D-Day Infant Soldier we owe so much more than our admiration, our thanks, our acknowledgment of their unimaginable pain, their blood spilled, their unyielding efforts against impossible odds. We must never forget their sacrifices from journeys into the infinite blackness of evil. Of their pushing onward with the penetrating pain of devastating injuries, of such a willingness and devotion to go back into facing these horrors with both the trepidation of looming death and unstoppable resolve of refusing to live in a world darkened by the evils of tyranny. We owe them much gratitude, mostly by simply living our lives in a responsible and productive manner with dignity and respect. We need to be strong, to uphold our country's founding principles as established in our constitution and be willing to defend it at all costs. This is the only way to truly honor our magnificent heroes. To be honest, hardworking, decent, and good to one another. We must always seek truth and live by it. We must fully accept spirituality, for we are all but part of this eternal energy that drives our conscious being and is the essence of all existence.
THE PEASANT AND THE TYRANT
The sun occasionally peeps through some passing, white fluffy clouds, illuminating a dusty old village of dirt roads surrounded by beautiful countryside of rolling hills filled with trees and foliage blooming with wildflowers. An old, slender male peasant with long, disheveled gray hair dressed in shabby clothes, walks wearily down a long and winding dirt road which leads into the city he despises with all his heart and soul. His blue, penetrating eyes look upon the beauty of the plush countryside with both appreciation and in impending trepidation to the purpose of his trek. His leathery and wrinkled skin is dark and blemished from the constant exposure to the elements of nature which he honors and cherishes. He's been walking for several miles with only a small cantina of water, a slab of beef jerky half-eaten in his hip pocket, and a strong determination to supply the energy needed for the long and arduous journey. In his calloused hands he holds a corked vile as he approaches the guarded entrance to the tyrant's palace. Though tired and weary in body, he walks with the confidence and certainty of a man who knows his sense of purpose without any doubt, fear or hesitation. He stops upon the armed guards' attention at his approach and speaks to them in his deep, strong voice which imbues the vigor of his certainty that he has chosen the right path of his desired destiny.
"As a humble servant I request an audience to set the great one free by offering this vile of deadly poison for him to drink from." The guards raise and aim their riffles at the peasant, one of them speaks angrily.
"Halt, you fool, down on your knees and prepare to die!" The tyrants voice comes on the loudspeaker.
"Lower your weapons and escort the peasant to my chamber."
The lush palace is adorned with glittering jewelry, great works of art on the walls, solid alabaster columns, granite counter tops, and oak panels polished to perfection. The amber spotlights along the darkened hallway leading to the chamber's doorway gives a foreboding sense of doom. The guards, upon hearing the tyrant's order, open the chamber's door, bowing their heads and gesturing with leaning arms toward the doorway, directing the peasant to enter. Once inside, he briefly gazes at the walls covered in diamond studded glimmering solid gold, he's not impressed. He approaches the elevated chair occupied by a large, heavy-set man with dark brown hair resting on a narrow, pale skinned head with puffy cheeks and beady lifeless brown eyes, which appear to the peasant as being glazed over by a thousand layers of evil. The tyrant speaks in unwarranted tones of shallow malice.
"Welcome to my chamber, lowly peasant. What is it that brings you with such courage and foolishness?"
The peasant is undeterred by the tyrant's attempt of belittling his intentions. He speaks with the same strong resolve as he did to the guards.
"I come to you as a humble servant to set you free with this vile of deadly poison for you to drink from."
The tyrant is pleasantly amused and speaks resolutely.
"Hah! So, you expect me to drink that poison? Guards, get the TV cameras in here, I'm going to broadcast this event, live for all the other peasants to see as I bring you to your knees, pleading to me to spare your worthless life. I want all your foolish followers to see this spectacle, of you squirming like the vermin you are, begging for my mercy to let you live under my unquestionable power. Guards, announce it that all peasants, my servants, are to immediately dispense of their duties, go home and watch on live television the dismantling of this rebellious servant who thinks he can convince me of committing suicide by realizing my evil ways. Huh, what a joke, (looking at the peasant) well the joke is on you. (he looks back at the guards) Tell them the broadcast is to begin in 20 minutes, precisely at six o'clock."
So certain of himself, the tyrant looks upon the peasant with menacing eyes and a voice so shrill with self-aggrandizing undertones that it makes it unbearable for the peasant to listen, yet he shows no signs of being intimidated.
"Now that we have this moment together before the cameras are turned on, tell me, for I am curious, where did you get this crazy idea from?"
"A book," the peasant replies in a steady, unperturbed voice. "Which I found long ago in the forest, hidden under a rock of unusual colors, it was wrapped in clear plastic."
"What book is this?" Demanded the tyrant.
"Romeo and Juliet, by William Shakespeare."
"Ah, the lovers who couldn't live without each other, drank the poison mistakenly by one, then purposely by the other. Such foolish nonsense: that is why we banned such books."
"That is not why you banned them," replied the peasant in a most somber and sincere voice.
"You banned them because they inspired real feelings, romantic feelings, and creative thoughts. You banned them because you didn't want people to think for themselves, to be independent, and to have the foolish notions of things like freedom and the responsibility of controlling their own destinies."
The tyrant briefly gazes at his guards and looks back down upon the steady face of the peasant. His tone is forcefully unstrained as he fails to fully disguise the tension he feels.
"You know I admire the courage and determination at your many attempts to over-throw my reign or to escape from my empire, but this, this is so foolish it's laughable." He chuckles and continues.
"I didn't take you for a comedian."
The peasant somberly replies.
"This is not a joke."
"I find it hard to take you serious, yet I see that you are. Interesting, well, this is going to be fun."
"We shall see."
The tyrant is growing impatient, looks at his watch, and speaks in relief at both his uneasiness with what the peasant was expressing and the short time until the cameras will be turned on.
"Well, the show is about to begin, are you ready?"
"Yes, I am, are you?"
The tyrant wiggles in his chair, adjusting the collar of his shirt which seems to caress his neck uncomfortably. He's sweating under the bright lights before the cameras with the worry lines across his forehead becoming more pronounced as he raises his bushy eyebrows. The peasant is completely comfortable, confident in his demeanor, relaxed and patient in anticipation of what is to follow.
The silent air lingers thick with conflicting energy inside the darkened chamber but for the two bright spotlights descending upon the resolute peasant and the falsely confident tyrant who appears to the peasant to be most uncomfortable. It's almost as though the peasant has the upper hand in self-assurance in spite of the obvious advantage of the tyrant's armed guards ready to execute his orders immediately upon his every whim. The five minutes leading up to the moment the cameras are to be turned on seem to hang in timeless suspension of an inevitable occurrence with an outcome which is as unknown as the attempts of a cantaloupe's attempt to escape the speeding prow-less of an advancing cheetah. Who is the cheetah and who is the cantaloupe, and who will be the victor? The peasant's mind is racing with possibilities, while his heart is calm, and the tyrant's mind is blank with certainty, yet his heart is racing with the fear of the unknown at such a ridiculous offering by a lowly man who defies the obvious situation by displaying such a strong air of confidence.
After what seemed like an eternal, twisting dance of silent thought and emotional exhortations, the cameras are turned on. The tyrant displays a disturbing veil and speaks in lingering overtones of evil intent.
"I give you this live broadcast as a lesson in obedience, and to what is to become of those who dare question or defy my rule. I give you food, clothing, and shelter in exchange for your fruitful labor at my command. Without such structure and order you would be lost in chaos and helplessness. Do not disobey me or like this fool you will pay with your life. I want you to see your leader and how he will fold like a paper doll under my power. So, my slave, my servant, you underground leader of all the other peasants to whom you seem to be their hero; tell this audience of sheep followers the purpose of your visit.
In the same confident and steady, deep voice, the peasant answers.
"I come to you as a humble servant to set you free with this vile of deadly poison for you to drink from."
The tyrant laughs out loud, at first restrained, then uncontrollably. He tries to gather himself, begins to speak and interrupts it with more laughter. The peasant steadily observes without a response, motionless.
"You," chuckles the tyrant, "You want me to, --"
The tyrant continues to laugh for another twenty seconds or so, gathers himself as he swipes his hair back with his hand. His voice soon turns serious with lingering tones of mockery and denial.
"So, you want me to drink your deadly poison. It is you who will drink it, if not willingly, then by force through a funnel. But before I get to that, I want to hear you out. I want you to tell me and the TV audience what your reasoning is behind such a ridiculous, absolutely preposterous proposal!"
The peasant speaks ever so humbly, sincerely, and at times with great passion, yet always steady and deeply thoughtful.
"I suppose you assume that such a lowly peasant could not possibly have anything of substance, meaning, or of useful value to ponder from a perspective you may not have ever considered. Oh, you can control us under threat of torture and death, but there is something you can never take from us so long as we will not allow it. It is not something you can see, touch, hear, smell, or taste. It is not something you can measure with a ruler or a scale, not something you can burn or take a knife to, not something you can wantonly discard like the leftovers of a lavish meal paid for by the sweat and blood of your slaves' forced labor. Do you know what it is?"
The tyrant nervously tugs on his collar.
"Of course, pride, stubborn pride?"
"No, not exactly. Oh, that's one of the many endearing qualities that stem from it, but it's something that goes much deeper. Down to the very essence of an individual's being and identity, all the way to the soul. It gives action a direction, a direction with purpose, and a life with meaning."
"Yes, tell us, tell us what it is."
The peasant sees past the tyrant's cover.
"Dignity."
"Well, very good."
The tyrant pauses, briefly puts his hand under his chin and continues.
"You know, it's interesting, or should I say puzzling. You seem to be very intelligent and yet you come here with such a crazy, stupid offering. I don't get it. I mean you must have something up your sleeve, a surprise attack perhaps. Yet that wouldn't work, this city is monitored by cameras covering every square foot, and my palace is completely surrounded by my guards. I really don't get it."
"I realize what I'm doing and how it must appear, but I can, we can no longer live like this. We know of a different place, far away across the seas, where things are different. Where men are free to choose their own path under a system of laws that does not allow anyone to infringe on the rights of others without just punishment. Laws based on reason and a government limited to only upholding those laws by the consent of the governed. An effective system of self-governance."
The tyrant's eyes widen as his voice raises to an intolerable shrill.
"That's ridiculous, self-governance, it would never work!"
"I know it can and does work when implemented with the right framework, but convincing you of that is not the reason for my offering. I wanted you to know our perspective, that we are human beings with aspiration, thoughts, feelings, desires to live freely as intended by our nature. We want to speak our minds without worry of saying the wrong thing by having a different opinion, without worry of persecution. We want to be free to experience the joy of love, to make mistakes, to celebrate our idiosyncrasies and all the little things that make us human. I wanted you to know our suffering does not come from being worthless, but form being restricted from making our lives productive from the unique characteristics and skills each of us have. I wanted you to know we are not worthless, and that perhaps there is some part of you that can feel as we feel."
The tyrant's eyes deepen in the brief interchange of energy between him and the peasant. Like attempting to cross the impenetrable barrier between the endless walls of descending evil and the rising virtue of genuine happiness, miraculously, the peasant appears to have slightly penetrated the tyrant's deceptive facade, as he suddenly begins to show a small tinge of compassion. The tone in his voice falls in parallel with the peasant's steady pleas of hope.
"I know you must think of me as an evil monster, but alas, I have feelings too. I've kept them hidden as a necessity to carry out my father's duty to carry out the order. I was taught we must do this to prevent us from devouring each other by the chaos that's in our nature. Although I can concede to your perspective of wanting freedom, it seems that we either destroy each other in an orderly fashion or by natural happenstance. Perhaps we are all doomed for extinction as so many other species have been before us."
The peasant is pleasantly surprised and jumps on the tyrant's moment of vulnerability.
"I can begin to see a small measure of compassion in your eyes beyond the countless layers of empty malice. I came to you because I wanted you to understand our point of view. I know I cannot get inside your head and know exactly what you're thinking, no one can; only the person himself can truly know himself. Yet, I can guess from your facial expressions and body language. I do not pretend to an expert in this, but I know enough to realize that you have conceded the validity of my quest. I have not come here to seek your solace in the unfortunate circumstances we find ourselves in, but to only feel our anguish that has befallen us by way of your obligatory ways handed down to you from a bloodline of many generations of tyrannical tradition. I wanted you to feel the torment, the intolerable suffering and endless pain that you have cast upon your fellow human beings. You may not, as upon the many generations of undeniable influence before your birth, grant us the respect we deserve in light of many of us managing to retain our dignity as individuals rising above the shallow degradation thrown upon us by the descending shadow of self-denial. You see, what you do unto others as a man with the freedom of conscious, volitional choice is a reflection of how you value your own life. If you deny the freedom from others to determine the destiny of their own choosing, then you deny the freedom to choose your own. If you cripple by physical force the beauty and wonder of another to fully experience the beauty and joyful energy of the life we are a part of, then you cripple your own. Oh, yes you can torture me, pull me apart limb for limb, but I will not bow to you and ask you to spare my life. I could not live with myself if I were to capitulate all that I care for and believe in so that you will allow me to live; for I would rather die at the hands of your evil malice than to live without my dignity. I came here because I wanted you to see what I see, to feel what I feel, and to know what I know. I wanted you to realize that by entrapping us to slavery at your every whim, you are only enslaving yourself to an endlessly miserable life of emptiness which can only be filled with self-loathing and pity. That is what I mean by setting you free. I know it is too late for you for salvation; but is not too late for repentance. It is not too late for the acceptance of what you have allowed yourself to become and acknowledge it with the capitulation to all that is as it exists in both the sanctity of human life and the immutable laws of reality. So, I say again to you, I come to you as a humble servant to set you free with this vile of deadly poison for you to drink from."
The tyrant looks away, lowers his head into the crux of his arm, drying his tears, raises his head and bears an expression on his face of half terror and half relinquishment. His voice at first in steady, resolute tones of confidence, which suddenly gives way to a trembling, desperate cry of hopelessness.
"Guards, hand me that vile of deadly poison! Listen to this man, he is wise, he is to be your leader now. Follow everything, he says, that is a direct order from me. Cyrus, my first officer in charge, see to it that all of my staff is at the mercy of his direct command. I have seen myself in the mirror, not an actual physical mirror, but the mirror of the reflection that I have bestowed upon myself through my blind actions of hatred and evil, which now flood my weary soul with the endless torture of self-pity. I can no longer live with myself, so no longer will anyone else have to endure my misery."
He drinks the poison and quickly dies. The peasant looks into the camera and declares freedom to all the people of this land.
"It is with much pride and humility I declare all of us as free people. You are now the masters of your own destinies. This is not freedom from responsibility, but freedom to exchange ideas, products, and services in the rational means of civilized trade. There are laws we must always obey, not out of obligation to authority, but out of reason and respect for the rights of all humanity. These laws, which have borne fruit from another land far away across the seas, have through trial and error been established as the most reasonable and consistent with the laws of reality and the natural law for the type of human conduct which is reasonable and respectful to the sanctity of truth and life as it is intended by the nature from whence it came."
The End
WARNING - SPOILER ALERT! - HEADS-UP BELOW!!
(If you don't want to see the riddle answers yet.)
RIDDLE - I
1. Energy
2.Dimension
3. Measure
4. Degree
5. Extent
6. Amount
7. Scale
8. Volume
9. Relativeness
10. Relative Space
11. Size
12. Rate
13. Event
14. Extremes
15. Attributes
16. Diversity
17. Counter Context
18. Opposition
19. Contrast
20. Quantity
21. Scope
22. Range
23. Field
24. Variation
25. Proportion
26. Perspective
27. Change
28. Difference
29. Separation
30. Motion
31. Distance
32. Reach
33. Span
34. Distinction
35. Numbers
36. Evidence
37. Reflections
38. Body
39. Balance
40. Equation
41. Condition
42. State
43. Being
44. Inclusion
45. Facts
46. Objective Truth
47. Identity
48. Thing
49. Something
50. Element
51. Nature
52. Irony
53. Physical Reality
54. Actuality
55. Existence
56. Is
57. Infinity...
**Wisenheimer alternative answers for stits and giggles; Ha-ha!**
58. Area. 59. Areas. 60. Different. 61. Spectrum. 62. Actualities. 63. Actualization. 64. Physics. 65. Exaggerate. 66. Exaggeration. 67. Exaggerations. 68. Exaggerating. 69. Process. 70. Processes. 71. Equations. 72. Equating. 73. Characteristic. 74. Characteristics. 75. Quality. 76. Qualities. 77. Quantities. 78. Amounts. 79. Measures. 80. Inclusions. 81. Things. 82. Some Things. 83. Proportions. 84. Proportionality. 85. Perspectives. 86. Occurrence. 87. Occurrences. 88. Occurring. 89. Action. 90. Actions. 91. Motions. 92. Fields. 93. Measures. 94. Dimensions. 95. Degrees. 96. Scales. 97. Balances. 98. Variations. 99. Distances. 100. Changes. 101. Speed 102. Speeds. 103. Rates. 104. Reaction. 105. Reactions. 106. Reflex. 107. Reflexes. 108. Reflexing. 109. Reflect. 110. Reflects. 111. Reflecting. 112. Reflection. 113. Mirror. 114. Mirroring. 115. Echoe. 116. Echoes. 117. Echoing. 118. Proof. 119. Bodies. 120. Things. 121. Elements. 122. Identities. 123. Identification 124. Inclusions. 125. Beings. 126. States. 127. States of Being. 128. States of Beings. 129. Conditions. 130. Extremeness. 131. Distinctions. 132. Differences. 133. Different Sizes. 134. Extreme Sizes. 135. Extremely Different Sizes. 136. Different Extreme Sizes. 137. Extremely Extreme Sizes. 138. Differential. 139. Differentiate. 140. Differentiating Extremes. 141. Differentiating Extreme Sizes. 142. Differentiate Extremely. 143. Differentiate Extremely in Sizes. 144. Differentiate Extremely in Different Sizes. 145. Differentiate Extremely in Extreme Sizes. 146. Differentiate Extremely in Extremely Extreme Sizes. 147. Extreme Separation. 148. Extreme Separation of Sizes. 149. Extreme Separation of Different Sizes. 150. Extreme Separation of Extreme Sizes. 151. Extreme Separation of Extremely Different Sizes. 152. Extreme Separation of Extremely Extreme Sizes. 153. Extreme Separation of Separating Sizes. 154. Extreme Separation of Separating Different Sizes. 155. Extreme Separation of Separating Extreme Sizes. 156. Extreme Separation of Separating Different Extreme Sizes. 157. Extreme Separation of Separating Extremely Extreme Sizes. 158. Diversification. 159. Extreme Diversification. 160. Diversly Extreme. 161. Extremely Diverse Diversification. 162. Extremely Different Diversity. 163. Extremely Different Diverse Diversification. 164. Extremely Diverse Sizes. 165. Extreme Diversity of Different Sizes. 166. Extreme Diversity of Different Extreme Sizes. 167. Extreme Diversity of Different Extremely Extreme Sizes. 168. Extremely Different Diversity of Different Extreme Sizes. 169. Extremely Different Diversity of Different Extremely Extreme Sizes. 170. Extremely Extreme Different Diversity of Different Extreme Sizes. 171. Extremely Extreme Different Diversity of Different Extremely Extreme Sizes. 172. Differentiating Diversity. 173. Differentiating Difference. 174. Differentiating Different Diversity. 175. Differentiating Extreme Diversity. 176. Differentiating Different Diversity. 177. Differentiating Different Extreme Diversity. 201. Differential. 202. Differentiating Diversity of Different Sizes. 178. Differentiating Diversity of Different Extreme Sizes. 179. Differentiating Diversity of Different Extremely Extreme Sizes. 180. Extremely Extreme Differentiating Differential of Extreme Diversity of Extremely Extreme Diversification of Differently Different Extremely Extreme Separation of Extremely Extreme Sizes of Extremely Extreme Proportions from an Extreme Perspective of Extremely Different Extremely Extreme Sizes. 181. Extreme Areas. 182. Extremely Extreme Areas. 183. Extremely Different Diverse Areas of Extremely Extreme Segregated Sizes of Extreme Differences. 184. Extreme Measures of Speed within Extremely Extreme Processes of Extreme Occurrences. 185 - (?) Etc., etc., etc...
**Imagine this. The total possible number of 3-digit number combinations is 1,000. The total possible number of 4-digit number combinations is 146,410,000. How many possible word-combination answers could there be from a list of 53 single-word answers, plus another 77 silly ones? Probably enough to wrap around the entire universe and then some...**
(Scroll further down to see the next answer, and the next answer, etc.)
RIDDLE - II
Itself
(It's the only exception by not having any exceptions.)
RIDDLE - III
Is
RIDDLE - IV
Ignorance
RIDDLE - V
Happiness
RIDDLE - VI
1. Nothing
2. Space (Thought of by Cheri Reeder.)
RIDDLE - VII
Nothing (Not anything)
RIDDLE - VIII
Contradiction or Paradox
RIDDLE - IX
Irony
(It contradicts itself by losing its unexpected opposing outcome once it is applied.)
RIDDLE - X
Itself
(Existence is of its own source without beginning or end.)
RIDDLE - XI
Reflection
