Sunday, December 25, 2011

ALL THE MEN COME OUT TO PLAY





A PASSGAGE FROM MY BOOK....
'ALL THE MEN COME OUT TO PLAY'


It is in this monumental sadness, I will endeavor to reconstruct some form of sanity, some stability to draw from, and some resemblance of a significant direction to take. I see a beautification of a strange and complicated flower before me, withering away. It has not yet seen its true beauty. It has not yet fed upon the real milk of its true mother. It has not seen the healing which lies within its petals of peculiarity. It has not yet designed its present, nor has it yet encouraged its spiritual past to mirror a loss of unintellectual unmethodical and unmiraculous deeds for the embellishment of its truly perfect future.


We are at a time of dissolutionary wonderment. The unstable awe we bring into our collective psyche seems to hold no natural utopianistic phenomena within its grasp. It holds a certain inevitability of destruction so severe that there we are now starting to imagine no point beyond where we can exist as a species. Most often in the severity of this cataclysmic eventuality, which our minds have added to our evolutionary manifesto, there may not even be a particle of life left for the acknowledgment that the story of the human race ever graced the shores of this wondrously alive planet.


So much inevitability to swallow, as well as the chores we face each day at sunrise. We allow this draconian destiny to prevail in our minds. A heavy burden we own as if it were our idea. We grab these destructive conceptual ideals and add to the already tumultuous log of insane and unstable ideas waiting in the queue to enter the door of our collective mindset. It is our forefathers’ validation of destruction and carnage which needs more souls to incarcerate, not our desire to cease its existence. No one is safe from its savage tentacles. We as a species need to realize that this juice we are putting in our psychic engine is faulty. Fuelled with psychotic by-products which solidify fear.


I now look at turbulence as an antiquated entity, in fear of its own extinction. I now have complete resolve in my own knowing, that humans are more superior than I have ever imagined, in the universality of our mandate, even without the egoic injection of validation which the souls compassionate and abstract understanding that we are the proverbial ‘children left out in the rain’. As the water washes over our collective loneliness, it coats our potential with yet another addiction. In feeding this hungry, ravenous egoic beast which has been set loose on us and nature.


I am observing. Those we deem as our guides, gatekeepers, protectors, healers and prophets have neglected their posts to be on the periphery of consciousness, enabling our mistakes to synthesize and blend into evolutions compassionate well of tears. Their falsified commitment is leading the collective into their genocidal doom, and total destruction of the earth itself. Yet we apathetically stare at our so-called leaders achievements and almost simultaneously applaud them en masse whether they have been successful or not. We have created a malignant right to survive. Forfeiting our meaningful existence into a banal destiny only to suffer in the insignificant consequential wake. This has nothing to do with our true collective destiny.    


We co-create with passion, an evolutionary concoction of distortion by feeding the lies which have infiltrated our collective imagination, allowing it to be eaten, or should I say devoured, from the inside out. We have let the wolf in the door of our collective free will. It seems he will just have to eat us all until there is nothing left.  We tell tales of his greed for the human spirit. Alas we do not see this oppressor. We feel a disdain by the way we are treated. We are mocked continuously everyday. We are satiated with brokenness, imperfection. Drowned in a continuous cycle of defeat, playing out the victim-perpetrator paradigm on a daily basis. A paradigm which has seen a massive shift throughout humanities historical imprint, creating an anti-morphosis from a creative perception, interplaying with the dominion of the planet, to a destructive and defeated perception, which is incapable of rising to the challenge, nor has any desire to. Yet throughout our mythos, stories have surfaced and been given credible longevity of the oppressed overpowering the oppressor.


Always with an unseen divine power interplaying and interweaving itself through the motivative enlightening thread of each word. This is our food which we are denied. Being the hunter gatherers that we are, we must pay homage to the past for keeping this paradigm open, under insurmountable odds. Each evening as we are being fed the synthetic fear-based disinformation to feed our fear ridden hearts, we can duly masticate on the synthetic fear-based foods prepared in laboratories with indescribable concoctions which no human should ever ingest, nonetheless help create.

STAY SACRED....

© David O'Brien 2011

No comments:

Post a Comment