Chiseled by thaw Here we all are, for what we are . . . Always apparently driven by a hidden apprehensive formula towards the outcome of success until success provides us fully with shortcomings’ truths; our lives are as the predicament . . . straddling cross hairs of awareness versus the consensus stability of our status, until all of the intimate strategic anchor points that came for them, are now gone. This stressing over an emphasis on whom you know until who you know, doesn’t really mean that they really know you. And always, as if automatic, the ever-present adrenal surge to project as if stage presence ever wraps the gift you give yourself. Featuring your multi-sensing of the people-surround for clues, driven by a disenfranchisement feeling filling your void with justification, and with a pathos that is so self-concealed by its self tailoring of a rationalization wardrobe designed from all occasions until you, don’t even believe what you are saying. Yes, we are secretly driven with a primal endowment towards purpose as if by that protection ever comes, but by the quality of your intent, by way of honing in on “effort” styles and positioning them with ‘cause-worthy-ness’ as our trump card until we’re done being “up” and the causes got campy. Even now, tapping into a network of sensibles and full spectrum sensitivity is as if we could still leverage ourselves at any point in time. And now at this point, with that ‘intoxicating disenchantment’ always giving us cynical audience applause, to spite of our best efforts and here we are . . . (not you personally but a you you know), based on habits of evocative uninspired long suffering and a sweetness for “self-love at a distance”, remembrances that so-called friends come to give to others, just like you and even though they, being strongly loyal to their own dark nights of the soul, they now hang out like a prayer flag of past habit’s reward through a religion of un-kept-ness that is coming to grips with performance’s past gold stars. They, for themselves, are their own entourage of versions and idiosyncrasies. They, themselves, rolling over easy now that they are not the lead dogs, even of them self. Their current presence will become their clandestine backdrop. Gravity will overstate their diminishing case for whatever was their radiance will have had bask and fade. Timelessness will have outwitted their every plan. Their own purposeless in being will have the last say. ‘Empty inspiration’ will have floated their entire life away. The story will cease to make sense or subsequent amends and yet, their minds will still be filled. Each one’s own spirit will still have desperation and allure. Each one’s own passion will be discovered to be coming from beyond ones disappointment’s deep. And that spirit of theirs, the one within the ice sculpture of their lives, will eventually and truthfully be chiseled by thaw. And you will know them from the inside out, much in the same way you have come to know yourself. Spirit will radiantly emerge, melting all else as all lessons eventually occur and all methods ultimately and blessedly concur.
Posted on: Thu, 07 Nov 2013 15:02:14 +0000
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