ST164 ... 'There is just no easy way'.... conversations with j.
- like so many, behind bars no matter where he went.
There is no easy way. No matter where you look, where you are at, whom you think you are; it is hard, an electrifying life. At best you can be one of those 'know it all’s, positive thinkers, smiling faces', - hiding fears beneath blankets of data, or one can face the absurdity of it all with an anxious attitude that can kiss the wind as it blows you apart. There are a few options wrangling around in the streets. There are those that inspire to possess stuff from antiques to friends, entertain themselves with games from soccer-golf to war, and those that do good like a martyr would, investments to enlightenment, for a smooth sailing into heaven or a daring dissent into hell. It's a hard life, without a doubt. We truly know no purpose. We make it up, act as if it's universal, understood, definite. Where does one go from here? Dive in dive out, pick up the pieces, throw-um away.
How can one make it all stand up, tall, while still knowing it is all flawed, that intricate game with ones self, the desperate attempt to believe - in something, anything, solid, firm, assuring?… we're all a pile of contradictions, happy one moment, content and devastated the next, throwing beliefs around like an old sock. Rocking in a free world, swimming thru the swamp, one day feeling great, night time creeping in.
He spent his life in prison, behind bars, living from one day to the next in a striped shadow existence. He would ponder on a freedom that never really was, a safe easy way, illusions of bandages wrapped-up all around within. That was Jim, he was like so many, behind bars no matter where he went.
'People from the prison they ask unto me, How good how good does it feel to be free, and i answer them, oh so mysteriously, are birds free from the chains of the skyway' DylanB.
Joe spent his life trying to understand what was possible to understand, to know, to believe. He came to many conclusions as he wandered thru this world but one constant understanding was that 'reason' itself was flawed, it was not capable of knowing what it claimed to believe it could know - the great paradox. Any ultimate search was fruitless. There was always a leak, into the darkness, the light, the mystery, the void… from words to letters to scratches on a cave, it all ended in a deafening silence stretching across plains of mind.
One day Jeff was out and about, thinking, not thinking, walking, watching. It was a gray day, a slight drizzle occurred sporadically. The moisture in the air filtered the worlds noice with a damp and slow silence. It clawed in on him, once again, that there was no answer, and more questions was not the answer, that there was no full-answer, ever, the searching for any absolute-understanding was futile, 'real faith is beyond knowing', jude thought; it is written in the leaves, the soil, the heart, the cells of the brain, but not in the mind - that sensory data processor of broken facts. One must move as the wind, leave behind what is behind, fold into the future fresh, be. Destroy all scriptures, conclusions with the flick of an eye and breathe into into….
Memory insists to persist as the world turns in on its side
there is nothing hidden, nothing left to hide
leaves strangled falling, rusting and dying slow
times are changing, there is nothing more to know
jerry
‘Are birds free from the chains of the skyway’
Jesus left for the west door, john was sitting in the east, jake was traveling north, i was heading south, the world turns, in on its side, ‘it’s a merry-go-around’, j said. Julie’s still in the painting, janis singing steal, jessy free as a bird, jean the machine, j j j ….
‘Doubt is not a pleasant condition but certainty is absurd’ joltaire
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oops...dissonance...or focus....one is a sure thing: working at something and then 'play' a need for 'undefined borders'. Losing one's self where one hopes to find one's self is a dichotomy'...I like what you wrote because I think I can find myself in there...