Saturday, December 18, 2010

litter stock ack

Are you a remake or a sequel?

Don't all of us have that question to answer?

Are we following in our parents' footsteps or creating a new path?

My thought set leans against others constantly, absorbing through porous contacts the thoughts and actions of those around me.

Sometimes I'm fully aware of why I do what I do that seems [to be] in sync with others, and sometimes I'm barely aware why I act out a sequence of events that I would not normally perform if I was away from the mainstream.

To put myself out there all the time, loving everyone without qualification, no limits, like there is no next moment, seeing all they want me and don't want me to see, puts off some people.

It's like a river running into a boulder or bend in the landscape, flowing along anyway, changing course to fit the immovable channel contour presented to it.

There's more I want to say but I can't.

I've encountered a dam.

Now what do I do next?

There's a lot of land that's going to be flooded behind the dam.  I know that much.

Go with the flow, be the flow, pull others along with you.

Pile up behind obstacles.

And then...?

Dark, still waters circulating around, leaving sediment, feeding new organisms, the potential of potential energy finding its potential.

The circle of life, sequels and remakes, alloneandnone.

Monica in Florida, John in Rhode Island and me here - is that the result of our friendship together many years ago?  Are there vectors and traced rays and concentric circles radiating out from the pebbles we threw?

What if we know what we have before it is gone?

I don't see storylines like a young person sees for the very first time, although I try to see the world with childlike wonder.

Is that wisdom?

I forget.

Does seeing Venus in the daytime make me anything other than an object that can recall on a firsthand basis seeing Venus in the daytime?

Should my only guiding thought be "if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all"?

A doo-boppa doo-wop, a biddy bang bong.

Another riff on words in a blog.

That's all this ever was and ever will be.

What life is ultimately all about.

Easy to say, harder to explain: everything goes in a circle, reality is only seven letters.

We learned the words when we were just kids: "Row, row, row your boat...life is but a dream."

Glitter
Cardstock
Stack

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