A thought and fire

-A thought

Understand that there is good and bad. What is good is right and what is bad is wrong (Marcus Aurelius). In this sense you must not muddle with a space in between, there is no grey area. Ones actions in life reflect his persona in a moment, good or bad. Thus, your actions are a constant reveal of the struggle you face everyday. However they will not determine you spiritually, unless you let them.

-Fire

Fire is a destructive force that in nature serves a cleansing purpose; for example, the eradication of pine beetles or elimination of decay. It is the fault of humanity that people are burned alive.

4b5tr4ct10n part 3

Dear user, please do not be alarmed as we separate your body from your nervous system. Momentarily you will entered into a program control matrix where you will experience the pleasant smell of toast with cooking eggs and bacon. This sense has been chosen in effort to make you feel comfortable. Iffffff you do not enjoy the smell of a comforting breakfast than you have only to think and the program will accommodate any sense you desire. The experience will last for about 2 minutes while your body is prepared for cremation at which time your memories will be transferred into a collective consciousness. Your personality will be lost. There will be no more need for sustenance or subsistence. YouYOuyouYUoyou will no longer require emotion. Enjoy your enlightenment and have a pleasant emulsion.

Disappear

To disappear isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Individuals need there own time to meditate and contemplate life to its fullest. There’s nothing wrong with watching a TV show you like, playing a video game for a half hour or a taking in a movie you love. However, it is when we cross a boundary into the realm of addiction and numbing that “me time” goes too far. There’s a line where one passes from enjoyment to disconnection.

Sometimes a person needs to just sit and do nothing. Sometimes a person needs to realize that doing nothing isn’t bad. Sometimes a person needs to realize that sitting on their computer or indulging in video games isn’t doing nothing.

There is a realm of addiction where people enter to free themselves from the daily world. When someone shoots crack, or plays a video game for the better part of the day… All humans try to disconnect in someway. All the magic is being stolen away, sucked into little black holes of our own creation.

Doing nothing, in order to clear your head, or in order to fill it. To disappear into ones own mind. To think. To mediate. To meditate. To contemplate. To convert. To need. To love. To live. To hurt. To heal. To cry. To try. To realize.

To breathe…

To breathe in life anew, free of the shackles of boredom and the id. Infinite patience isn’t achievable by a human standard; but humans can learn to accept silence, darkness or emptiness with joy. One may go and wander a park, sit on a bench, listen and meditate the bird’s songs. Heed a child cooing. Ponder the sound of traffic. Excite at the sound of rustling leaves. Close one’s eyes and enjoy the dark.

Disappear into the oblivion that is the world. Embrace it, and become it. Realize that you are alone. Realize that you are never alone. Embrace existence, both in your world and the real world.

Don’t worry though, everyone makes mistakes.

Badlands

Blue skies, burn down on scorched bentonite.

Black lines painted on the sides of mountains from past fires.

Red shale slides underneath weary feet.

Russet shaded brambles claw at the sky.

Badlands, full of beauty and past pains.

Fruition

In retrospective, things always seem to move so fast. However, as we experience things in life we often find our patience waning. Everything has to happen right then.

All it takes is patience. All things come to fruition eventually. If we're always waiting for one thing to happen, then we'll miss everything else.

Floating

When I was little, I would occasionally float into the sky. I'd just be playing in the yard and then out of nowhere I would start to rise slowly into the air. Past the roof of my house. I'd grab at tree branches trying to pull myself back down. Petrified of falling back down to earth I'd call out but nobody could hear my voice. I imagined it must have been angels lifting me up.

In time, I'd be on solid ground again playing just as

before. No one believed me. I know I didn't imagine it.

Floating up into the heavens. I don't remember getting

back to the ground, but it really happened.

Walking

Throughout the wood, you see small animals and various flora. The smell of moss on rocks and locks. The air is moist, a shower of green herbs and twinkling stars. A bright star peaking through the canopy of origami creating a gobo trance upon the ground.

Waves crash on the bright green algae, smearing light as though with a knife. Speckles on a stickbugs branch, grey like ash. Dew creeps up your nose, tickling. The smell... the smell of life.

The taste of peppermint and and tuber lightly dance on the tongue.

You can hear sticks crackle and crick underfoot during your slow meander. No rush, no worry. Complete comfort and safety.

Walking, by the old house, walking.