Flows and Fragments

Celebrate with a drink! Cheers to good health with the consumption of a known toxin.
Mustn’t let yourself fret over such trivialities – let’s return to building our own reality.
Where to begin? Are you a friend or foe? Wait – regardless of what you say, how can I trust you?
The response would naturally then be: how can I trust anyone?

We are pressed often by pain; often driven or propelled by an internal pressure that combusts to sustain our inner flame.
The heat motivates, or rather, stirs us into motion. Fueled by an emotion at any given time sets our actions into motions.
Each presumably, and hopefully, preceded by a deliberation followed by a conscious decision. If we know the act was driven instinctually, in most cases, this being synonymous with the term unconscious, then we can conclude or redirect our initial inquiry.

If we know the actor of an action didn’t do so intentionally, i.e., remember not having thought prior to their action, then we can eliminate this channel of inquiry. This speaks nothing of the tenability of other channels. Particularly, we move to the group that can at least acknowledge the presence, even in retrospect, that the effect of their action emerged from some choice on some level of emotive (including somatic) and/or cognitive (e.g., linguistic) grounding.
To acknowledge a phenomena’s existence must precede the stage of naming such a thing – order of events is an important rule of thumb to help remember the principle of reversibility.

Still waters – why do we believe we strive for stillness? Because we’re so busy we are dying to rest? True. But this merely means that we need rest and not that we want to stay there. Sure. We may want to now, as we think of this as a future potentiality, but our minds would likely change upon the actualization of this desire. However, this speaks to reduction of tension not to an elimination of it altogether. Rather, this speaks to a wish for a temporary tensive reprieve.

As actors, we enjoy getting to act upon others. This of course requires there exists others upon whom we might be able to act. But their existence can be conjured in the imagination, if necessary, so we’ll make the assumption and conclude in the affirmative of this statement’s validity.

Next, to move as an actor onto another, there must exist some dimensional gradient; that is, an imbalance that functions like a slope allowing for flow to occur. This is juxtaposed to stagnation. That is to say that the actor and the acted upon must have some degree of difference (> 0). This needn’t be a categorical difference. It merely must be enough of a difference to allow for the bifurcation of identity, i.e., each receives its own identity. Some degree of sovereignty over our own machine; how’s that working out?

We spend time worrying about the various things that are going to or have the potential to kill us while overlooking the stronger likelihood that the culmination of stress, pain, fatigue, apathy, and chronic pain will somehow not ultimately be our killer. I believe we secretly wish this to be true because then we wager with the death toll collector about when, or at what age is our toll due, evading these types of contemplations through the inner games we play with ourselves to manipulate time.

Discussions from Within

Float me on out to sea; I can’t help you believe.

Lay with me and help me breathe;

Have you forgotten thee?

Cast out those judgements harbored within your soul;

Am I one of the chosen few who are permitted to grow old?

Grant me rest and wisdom on how to proceed with your test,

Or abandon me to the shadows like all the rest…

Oscillate through time, yet you can still rhyme

What does that say about my mind?

Even more, what will I find if I allow myself permission to mine?

Of course, this would need to be discussed and allotted the proper amount of time.

Yes, remind me again of the total sum of time from which I may begin to divide?

This request is asinine; you use your wits, once more, only to hide.

I sense a temper rising to the surface and I’m unclear whether or not it’s actually mine.

Are you sure you’re the one who is doing fine?

Don’t mind me; for you mustn’t forget that you were the one who lost the initial key.

Remember your journey that resulted in your divine plea?

In honesty, I don’t because I have let those memories run free,

But now I see that they have encircled you as ghosts circling around the base of a tree.

You must release me!

Is this your turn at making a kind of plea?

I’m not sure if you’re ready yet or whether you’ll merely flee.

Oh, how quaint; you reflecting once more of what it’s all for

How much I adore your lofty philosophical musings; tell me again the story of how you will use them?

In a similar manner to how I use my limbs, but I suppose this too is too imaginative for you my lost friend.

Have you made any attempts to mend what we lost when we alone were left to fend?

I have not, and I will not even attempt to pretend because it is I within whom you are living in.

There you go again with your delusional grandiosity of thinking that you’ll win.

Tell me how it’s been attending to your body, again?