No ideal is plausible, just as no man is worth their trust
But I would rather live in the moonlight than die by day
To fall from the trees than from the mechanisms of my brothers
For our fathers
We are sons
And we live for the wild spirits
Human

No ideal is plausible, just as no man is worth their trust

But I would rather live in the moonlight than die by day

To fall from the trees than from the mechanisms of my brothers

For our fathers

We are sons

And we live for the wild spirits

Human

a man

there is one who like many - walked    his feet took him where all five fingered feet once originated   into the forest we feel we must walk and in fact that is where we go    into what can consume us and make our meaning so small    as leaves and trees surround us     they do their falling and we do ours

he walked until it was time to sit      his feet no longer were in use yet his hands began to tap     the beat in his mind slipped into reality through his fingertips     there was a sound now    a sound inside him saying it must be filled      with something - it would settle for most things -  he stood and realized something was called for    he began collecting sticks for a warmth

he once again walked

he did this until he came to a river     it flowed as he flowed    breathed as he breathed    walked as he walked     and this is where he burned what he had found

he did this for weeks       searching for fulfillment in many ways      he did this in such a way       but in many

there was a day when he came along a man

his words        are  you lost

i am not are you sir

i also am not

where do you live

there is a river

that there is - i wish to build my home here

of what will you build it

of the trees of course - they serve their purpose

that they do - i burn them for warmth

i see - that is kind of you

that it is - i wish not to surround myself with the dead

but what of the living - you have just the trees in these woods

i do - and they have me - and they are peaceful

this place will be peaceful

when you bring others - is that when your peace will come

indeed

you will bring others - and they will live in what was this forest

this is true

but where will there be to walk

why sidewalks of concrete - it is a sad but inevitable

but what will there be to sit upon

benches of steel - quite sturdy

but what will there be to burn

you have been in these woods some time

what will you burn

man will take care of that

but what will it be

the only thing men know how to burn

everything



Salvador Dali - Persistence of Time

Today I realize that time is not just a figment of my imagination.  As the possessions I keep track the ticking seconds in which I have been alive, I can’t help but notice that no matter my journey, their is a parallel life to mine.  Not in the fact of decisions but with the idea that it simply is.  There are so many who I pass on a daily basis trapped amongst time, as we all are, but as I did, misunderstanding its true power and stock that it takes in our lives.  We are bodies floating along except for the instances of spontaneous productiveness which seems to come all too rarely in this world today.  Time is our most precious resources in that without our time, we cannot do, we cannot react, and we cannot exist.  So I ask the very few who will read this, what is your time worth to you, and your answer should be everything…

In the Begining…

To begin I must say the purpose of this is to speak for myself and allow anyone who wishes to hear me out do so. You may not agree with me, but regardless I still love you.