Twinkle End Toil
There are so many places where I have touched down on the web that I wonder if I can recall all of them. Does it matter? Not really, but I am curious and thoughtful. I just...wonder.
I have sown seeds of my then thoughts, zen zots, ven vots, from the beginning. They are like bits of seven grain bread dropped, albeit not very strategically, along the path as I stroll toward....well, toward the future. Yes, that sounds progressive. Me on a Path, moving ever Forward.
Don't look back, something might be gaining on ya.
I don't much ruminate about past landscapes and the transgressions buried there. The days when I acted recklessly, plotted with less than honourable intent, revelled like an immortal fool? I have long ago apologized for them. They have been penanced.
Or the people from back in the wild now dead and gone having missed the queue leading up from the deep pits of youth. What can I do if I outlive everyone? It is destiny. Mostly, it just is. Ism in the schism biopic mism.
We are one in the spirit anyway, aren't we? No. That is fabrication. I am not One in the Spirit with a killer, for example. Alright, I killed a robin once. By mistake! He should have flown away. Birds always fly away! But not him. I hit him with a Ford Econoline on Richmond Road. I stopped and picked him up and it was truly horrible. I apologized. And yes, I took him home and buried him.
No, the lyrics sound good as placations go, but we are not One in the Spirit. Some of us are missing key elements. I do hope those fragmented souls find the pieces they need to patch their holes. But, of course, as far as I know, in order to find, you must first at least make effort...possess desire...to seek.
Om.
So it is that I am here again, whisper dancing to the beat of the Great White Screen. What does it matter? I've no shortage of words. Just like old Jed's unexpected crick of bubbling crude, before me lies a rich supply of the Phoneme. Seemingly endless, it spills out words and words and words.
I simply catch a few and line them up, poking at them like an inquisitive child with a stick and an anthill. To see what happens.
I have sown seeds of my then thoughts, zen zots, ven vots, from the beginning. They are like bits of seven grain bread dropped, albeit not very strategically, along the path as I stroll toward....well, toward the future. Yes, that sounds progressive. Me on a Path, moving ever Forward.
Don't look back, something might be gaining on ya.
I don't much ruminate about past landscapes and the transgressions buried there. The days when I acted recklessly, plotted with less than honourable intent, revelled like an immortal fool? I have long ago apologized for them. They have been penanced.
Or the people from back in the wild now dead and gone having missed the queue leading up from the deep pits of youth. What can I do if I outlive everyone? It is destiny. Mostly, it just is. Ism in the schism biopic mism.
We are one in the spirit anyway, aren't we? No. That is fabrication. I am not One in the Spirit with a killer, for example. Alright, I killed a robin once. By mistake! He should have flown away. Birds always fly away! But not him. I hit him with a Ford Econoline on Richmond Road. I stopped and picked him up and it was truly horrible. I apologized. And yes, I took him home and buried him.
No, the lyrics sound good as placations go, but we are not One in the Spirit. Some of us are missing key elements. I do hope those fragmented souls find the pieces they need to patch their holes. But, of course, as far as I know, in order to find, you must first at least make effort...possess desire...to seek.
Om.
So it is that I am here again, whisper dancing to the beat of the Great White Screen. What does it matter? I've no shortage of words. Just like old Jed's unexpected crick of bubbling crude, before me lies a rich supply of the Phoneme. Seemingly endless, it spills out words and words and words.
I simply catch a few and line them up, poking at them like an inquisitive child with a stick and an anthill. To see what happens.
posted by ella funt at
7:43 am
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