My attitude measured up against your you, is not the sign of just rule, but rather of justified license to kill. By extending myself over the end of your beginning I reason within that if you were my friend, you would humbly defer to my will. I need not worry about the potters who have shaped you before your era of revelation, because at the moment I am lacking elation, and the highlighting of your righteous indigestion is currently my satiation. I don’t waste time – I just spend it where I please, and I spend it with ease, strolling among the geese and the geezers, waiting for one of my investments to unfreeze. But as I wait, the process makes me cold, directing shivers down to my soul, exit stage left, but what about the show? I don’t know. I mean I do know, but I don’t want to. It’s so much easier to sacrifice the clear view of reality, for the hazy fragmented partition that the masses hold as true. I mean – why start a thorough revolution, when 75% of one will do? Why raise the bar, when simply holding it will suffice? The world is so far behind, and people so desperate for a mind in their mind that marginal difference is astronomical no matter what kind. I can see the world so clearly, because I’ve taken pains to see myself. But sometimes those pains pierce my emotions unexpectedly, and the tears overtake me, and I find myself wandering through a void. I want to reach out, but I hesitate. Annoyance is a pie of which I reflexively partake, extending myself into the realm of other people’s space, with no probes of grace – simply because I can. Because I understand what’s real, and am using it to my advantage… But then I ponder the virtue of my actions. I ruminate on the necessity of my expression, versus the dire need for real truth to make a global impression, and I ask myself the crucial question –
What REALLY matters?
**
~The Wordsmith
