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The circuitous links that together propel this orb into another realm, peek my curious nature, but somehow can not co-exist with my sense of what is real. It is difficult to live my life, each day to the fullest, with a mind full of dastardly characters wreaking havoc in my periphery. Is the nature of man and life such, that this hierarchy and the turn of events it engineers inevitable? It seems that way. The more I read the more I realize how current events are not current at all. Each new to me catastrophe is another eruption in a long series of events, rife with similar if not exact displays of the uglier side of human nature. The childhood game of ‘King of the Hill’ played with ghastly consequences. It’s hard to resign my conscience to accepting all of this as par for the course. I am often convinced that this time and place are different from all others, only to uncover similar events of another’s life. What remains absent from view is consequences to the persons initiating such devastating actions. History trivializes cause and effect, and mocks my sense of order. The personal price paid seems to be as arbitrary as taxation.
The pregnant pause syndrome. Something is waiting to be born, but what? It’s hard to sit still and wait for the inevitable to appear. Do the next right thing is the mantra that comes to mind, but even that is perplexing. The should of my life is a mirage, disappearing when in reach, and the be is intolerable. I suppose it is fear that has me cemented in place. Funny that such a fixed position is what I’ve always yearned for, but of course, not like this. I am paralyzed in uncertainty . The scene from the river is my best bet. Accepting this view of life for what it is. A snapshot in time, meaningful in itself, in the land of now. The bootstraps are broken. I do not have the energy, the desire, the willingness, or the resources to pick myself up, and move along to an unidentifiable next. My options are dependent on my perception, and perhaps therein lies my dilemma . The thought of hope for something other is halted from the consequences of all the previous battles. The fractured self that was, has mended itself into a shape or form that has no manual for correct usage. It works okay for the present, but can not be relied upon for alternate modes of play. It seems the best option is to let it ride. The wheel is spinning and wherever it lands will be a relief.
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