|
|
Post by moseley on Jun 10, 2012 20:58:57 GMT -6
(Indulge me then in Victorian fantasy) I have found my ten shilling and six pence hat. Kaloo kalay. If in the end they say your dream is madness, it is only maddening in the life you cannot reach it. So then, to shrink and grow to the.occasion is no more fittance than the Chinese generals chenning and chi'ing, in the illusion of their weakness, the.opposition fell on the hidden swords of women posing as men as the men ambushed from cover and the only victory the general savored as he had man after man exited from their now corpses, was the acceptance of defeat in the other generals eyes and yet the splendor of this moment, pales in time for if we trust in such things then are we not the necessary Philistine who today befriends a David to find betrayal when all others have.fallen because of our hand. It is war, waged to control an invisible timeless crown that the visible wearer is not bested but most suited for invisible obedience to the crown's architects. These rules are founded in a history most will neither accept or see, for what is a president but a short lived visible king pushing the agenda of silent puppeteers. Then, dear Alice, if Kali cut off thy head, thy heart, still pure and beating shall not perish in this illusion but shall strengthen long enough for thee to sow thine own head back on more carefully.for.your having lost it ... Yet again...but then know, in this forest of time, this gentle snowflake in your hand crystallized every moment is yours both sour and sweet, and this, dear Alice, is your life.
Sinceribly,
The Cheshire Cat.....
|
|
|
|
Post by moseley on Jun 10, 2012 21:00:08 GMT -6
But I have moments of clarity where I know that nothing can touch me despite anything because I do not own the attachments of people to me and it is all about the seeds I sow and how well I tend those that I experience the.success or failure of a crop, since too, I am not the harvester either, you cannot eat the fruits of action and remain capable of action and in the final analysis of life, it is what you did with what you had and how you might grow more amazing seeds than what you feel your lot is, in the end, there will always be a garden, but we the gardners do come and go and sometimes find ourselves tending the same pole beans, maybe because the last time we did not vault with them.
|
|
|
|
Post by moseley on Jun 10, 2012 21:01:10 GMT -6
Even on days when one is on the mountaintop, we always carry something either we put on or some shit put upon us and it takes ownership of the moment and the wrong seated ruler and our inner kingdom is hijacked by fools, which some things and times and perspectives make of us all. Down the rabbit hole, only because there is a dragon chasing you?
|
|
|
|
Post by moseley on Jun 10, 2012 21:01:56 GMT -6
But my dear, it is your story and how it unfolds I would like to hear from. Has it been that we stop taking journies because more.practical matters demand our oatmeal lumpy and our cup overrunning with tap water?
|
|
|
|
Post by moseley on Jun 10, 2012 21:05:05 GMT -6
Today, I have done differently, sometimes in only small ways. However, always the small ways create a giant change, sometimes that giant is fierce and magic beans and axing a beanstalk is not enough to rid what has been wraught. Other times, perhaps it is much smaller...this fragile glass cup, blown thinner in parts than others and done with haste because the glass blower has no time to waste so then, having our own trial by fire might melt those thin spots more evenly and temper us somehow, that we can handle bigger steel shot that does not always go overhead of the port bow.
|
|
|
|
Post by anirbas on Jun 10, 2012 21:15:01 GMT -6
I AM SICK OF PLAYING THE PART OF ALICE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm just saying...lol
|
|
