Purpose of Life
When the magic window, always in front of me; flickers and wakes first going from a blue unknown world of atom charged frenzy and then settling into this familiar cycle of beams rotating too fast to perceive I sigh with anticipation of once again entering your psyche.
At times it seems we connect on a level that is too far to reach out and touch but so close it sucks the air from me.
What wonderful picture will you paint for me today? What story of everyday existence will I see through this window?
Will I meet the challenge and respond in the same fantastic language that has become the way we choose to communicate our personal tragedy or will I fall short and fail to create for you the same image that I see?
Sometimes without thinking I watch as my fingers paint out images on these lettered caps and see the flashes of who I thought I could be fly out the window on it’s way to a seemingly endless universe of windows all abuzz with the magic.
I’m amazed at your world. The world you have allowed me to see. A world that satisfies but always leaves me wanting.
Where does your inspiration come from? Is it simply borne out of life’s experiences? I think not, you’ve not enough of them. Where then, repressed memories of another dark void where like all of us you cannot tread? It’s rare that you can feel it. So few of us can, or at least will admit to it.
Does the entire Universe and all that has ever been as well as all that can ever be hinge on a creator who allows the chosen one to spawn a child that is called Bastard for all time and allows another to be born and called Savior! NO!
GOD DID NOT CREATE MAN, MAN CREATED GOD!
The winds of change are blowing across our souls and the truth will shine in all the dark places and bring light to those that would be taken advantage of and there will be nowhere to hide for those that would menace the weak.
When the world learns that there is no one to default to then the answer will be ushered in on those winds.
The real purpose of life – is to end.
At times it seems we connect on a level that is too far to reach out and touch but so close it sucks the air from me.
What wonderful picture will you paint for me today? What story of everyday existence will I see through this window?
Will I meet the challenge and respond in the same fantastic language that has become the way we choose to communicate our personal tragedy or will I fall short and fail to create for you the same image that I see?
Sometimes without thinking I watch as my fingers paint out images on these lettered caps and see the flashes of who I thought I could be fly out the window on it’s way to a seemingly endless universe of windows all abuzz with the magic.
I’m amazed at your world. The world you have allowed me to see. A world that satisfies but always leaves me wanting.
Where does your inspiration come from? Is it simply borne out of life’s experiences? I think not, you’ve not enough of them. Where then, repressed memories of another dark void where like all of us you cannot tread? It’s rare that you can feel it. So few of us can, or at least will admit to it.
Does the entire Universe and all that has ever been as well as all that can ever be hinge on a creator who allows the chosen one to spawn a child that is called Bastard for all time and allows another to be born and called Savior! NO!
GOD DID NOT CREATE MAN, MAN CREATED GOD!
The winds of change are blowing across our souls and the truth will shine in all the dark places and bring light to those that would be taken advantage of and there will be nowhere to hide for those that would menace the weak.
When the world learns that there is no one to default to then the answer will be ushered in on those winds.
The real purpose of life – is to end.
posted by half_cent | 11:01 AM
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