What's The Fun In Funding Funds?

Maple leaves, hickory nuts and cedar needles cover the base of the mountain slope this cool autumn morning.

Noble Nobel nobility is crowned. A writer's reality is unreal. Charcoal, thinly sliced, joins a womb with a view in the prize category.

And Pakistani anger gets front page news.

Would John Carroll's face face you at the checkout stand?

Do snails shiver in their shells?

How do you explain to the paranoid that they should want people to talk about and follow them around, crowdsourcing having a healing process if we treat everyone with the respect as people that they earn by reciprocating?

I know I have this meager, short life to observe our species in action. I know originality is a matter of perspective because all ideas build upon one another like piles of leaves drying, decomposing and reemerging as leaves of another kind.

I know nothing. You are my memory, my mental calculator, my solution to problems like the binocular silhouette of my nose I can't see on my face. What is a nose for?

How many times can you have your heart ripped out of you and keep on going? How do you regenerate passion for the game of living when all has been taken away from you over and over again?

One in seven billion. One in trillions. One in infinity.

One more reason to live, one more day, one more perspective to call one's own as an integral part of life in the universe.

I am a member of my species. I am subject to the physical ailments and emotional highs/lows that come with this combination of states of energy.

This is my world, my solar system, my part of the galaxy.

I know we are a young global entity unaware of our big picture potential.

Can we put aside our childlike paranoid fears that others want to control the ballgame we've all agreed to play according to the best set of rules we can devise based on our current understanding of what constitutes a level playing field?

If history is any guide, the answer is rarely yes. We're competitive. Life is not fair. Asteroids, comets and supernovae do not ask our permission to play in the solar system "field."

All we can do is figure out how to help a neighbour truly in need.

Everything else is semantics. Winning and losing are temporal. Our species is constantly changing, time an illusionist making us think otherwise, our lives too short to want to see what's really going on.

Otherwise, all those trucks/tankers destroyed on the Pakistani border would have been stolen and used to help rebuild Pakistani villages, instead of claiming a selfish guerilla victory to justify more warring in the region.

See how we keep ourselves occupied?

Oh well, as much fun as I have spinning my ATV wheels on the freshly graded dirt of this construction site we call Earth, it's time to get back to motivating us to pull some of our eggs out of this basket and hatched in another coop some of us will gladly, protectively, proactively call home.