g the stew without feelings of discontent that while you operated within a condensed body you did not give in to the constrains around you that further condensed you
Don’t draw outside the lines, yet that’s the best place to draw. Follow the rules or you may lose your mind. L
THE INNER GALATIC CLIMB
BY AUGUST Z DR ENN A
he scratching and clawing of life from womb to tomb. I drink my orange juice each morning to embark upon endless contemplation of life. We’re on a journey, climbing out of the pit of human stupidity since birth. Yet, nobody wins. It’s been one stumbling block after another. We must first survive childhood and then overcome the pitfalls of growth. I feel cheated by my elders, because they were stupider than I was. I wonder what it’s like to be a child raised by smart people. I don’t mean to tell you that my parents were stupid. They were naive. Everyone around me was naive. Everyone around me is naive. People are clueless from one generation to the next, part stupidity and part a hopeful blindness to the truths. We are animals on this rock, you and I. There is no god; save the great expanses of primordial stew we are swirling in endless dance. A planet nestled in a solar system which is cradled in the galaxy that folds into a universe neighboring countless other universes. I sit upon a pebble within a large scale structure of the local universe and they want me to believe in a white-robed god. They raise us to think about Santa Clause, Easter Bunnies, Jesus Christs and to lay our trust at the feet of the Tooth Fairy. My mentors and lecturers would have me believe 2+2=4 and that Christopher Columbus discovered America. That taxes are real things while meditating on mountaintops haven’t a thing to do with the price of tea in China. This existence makes me feel like a bull in a China tea shop. I’ve been rattling and shaking the cage every step of the way. You’ve got to shake and you must rattle to loosen a grain of truth in this tightly knit ball of uptight lies. Lies from fear and fibs to keep the cannibalistic truths of our very humanity at bay. My parents weren’t dumb people. They just rambled along a rusty beaten path of a tribe who loved to strap their blinders on at any given opportunity. Let’s celebrate Christmas this year so we can celebrate it next year. Please do come over for dinner so we may have the same dinner again in another month. Let’s use this short time together to be bland and repetitive, over and over again. I sorted through a mass quantity of religions and non-religions. I weeded through government policies of here, there and somewhere else. My self-flogging has yet to stop, but I now beat myself for wasting time not reading enough books. Which is a much better place to be than killing myself over false doubt that I may be committing sins or conducting myself immorally. Don’t draw outside the lines, yet that’s the best place to draw. Follow the rules or you may lose your mind. Lose your mind and you may find you have a soul. Find your inner truth to be connected to a big swirling ball of cosmic soup that has no meaning and all the meaning rolled into one expanse. Get lost to get real and get real to get really lost. It’s about inner peace. It’s about entering the stew without feelings of discontent that while you operated within a condensed body you did not give in to the constrains around you that further condensed your body.
ose your mind and you may find you have a soul. Find your inner truth to be connected to a big swirling ball of cosmic soup that has no meaning and all the meanin
g rolled into one expanse. Get lost to get real and get real to get really lost. It’s about inner peace. It’s about enterin
Art, music, literature and compelling societal views that live outside of the box.