The ravenous rapture of repulsive, disgusting raindrops that were soaked in the clouds of infamy prior to their journey down to earth is all I can perceive from where I float above and within the fog of their collective minds. Audacious as it may seem, pride is the driving force behind their insignificant thoughts and visions of grandeur. What could possibly motivate us to collectively follow the moanings and groanings of those who preceed us? Perhaps the question is actually rhetorical in nature, or perhaps not. Some things are not for the knowing, but only for legendary calculations. Bonafide as they may be, things below and things above seem trivial by comparison. Of course, comparison is but a foreshadowing of things that were but may never be again. And things that may never be again only serve to discourage those who ironically were planted there to encourage the rest of us. And these stages of necessary encouragement always seem to follow the same pattern:
1) Abundance. 2) Desire for more. 3) Over-abundance. 4) Wilderness. 5) The edge of nowhere.
So here we stand at the edge of nowhere, yet desiring more. Perplexed, mortified, paralyzed and morose individuals are useless in such an undesireable frame of reference. Neither from the vantage point of the plains nor the high places have given any relief in our attempt to recount the journey thus far. The prior inhabitants set the boundaries and everyone who follows is powerless to change them within the depths of their minds. A schism results from such shenanigans and all who read of it can only stand by, helplessly, powerless, pathetically forlorn in the midst of the shapeless thorns and thistles. ”It’s never been done before”, they whisper. “Therefore it can never be done again for the first time”, again in a whisper, but this time with their eyes darting to and fro as the western sky becomes darker and darker.
With no conscience, it is neither right nor wrong. With no law, there is no lawbreaker. With no artist, there is no art. The ability to distinguish between the inner self of conclusions and the outer being of distinct principles and/or ideas has long since departed the valleys of multiple indecisions. Choose now or choose never are the only remaining options beyond the reach of their disposal. Obviously, with a new found sense of identity, neither inheritance was intended to reproduce in such a frivilous manner. But, who knew?
