We are mere children of the void.
Specks on an infinitesimally small mote in limitless space.
Lost by size, overlooked by indifference. A universe indifferent to our existence. The stars will shine, the planets will spin regardless of our future.
We are children who have a high opinion of ourselves, think we talk to God. Presumptuous beyond belief.
Yet, we are children on the verge of a pivot of unimaginable scope into infinite knowledge or total oblivion. It all hangs on a thread. The next few years will determine if we all slide into the depths of non existence with nor a sigh from the universe, or transform into the Seers, watching the birth of intelligence on a galactic scale. What a pivot indeed!

Look in the mirror. What do you see? Depends on the choices you've made. Depends on your programming. Depends on where you were born. Depends on what you were born. Look in the mirror. What part will you play? A protagonist? An antagonist? What will you do with the time you have? How strong is your will? Look in the mirror. What will you do?

Eons
in the making.
Law of the
jungle
ruling our
way.
Etched on
our soul.
Survival,
at all
cost.
Protecting
territory,
raiding for
resources.
Power to
control,
ruling over
others.
How
do we survive?
How
do we
move forward?
Can the
animal
move forward?
Can the
animal control
Instincts which
control the
animal?
Change
is required
less the
animal succumb.
Succumb
to the
weapons of
today.
Blending with
technology,
merging with
A.I.,
refining the
animal,
the bridge
to the
future,
the
path to the
Universe.

Our race against extinction.
We all come from the same cradle.
Though we think ourselves mature.
Our childish and petty ways are truly obscene.
We are products of our environment, fine tuned
to fit the scene. Some are black with ***** hair
designed to mitigate the sun and dissipate heat.
Some are white with flat hair like a rug designed to accentuate
the sun and hold in the heat. One evolved in a hot sunny world
where too much sun and heat were harmful, so the body adapts to better succeed.
One comes from a cold, less sunny environment, so adapted to absorb more sun an retain the heat, both the body needs.
Both simply adaptations to succeed in where they live.
For years and years and still today these adaptations are held against
some, that’s truly insane. Indeed!
We now live in a world full of us in every possible nook.
One small orb in space that we humans habitate.
Much need and want around the world where people suffer and
die for lack of humanity. We spend billions each year on weaponry, money that could be better spent, to protect ourselves from ourselves. Insanity to the brink.
How have we managed to last this long is surly a mystery. Will we grow up in time before we are history?

When
they come,
what will
they see?
Organics,
animals.
A world
full of animals.
***** messy,
animals.
Animals
steeped in
instincts,
controlling.
Animals fighting.
Pecking order,
fighting for
power, control.
War,
eons of
war, killing
on an
unimaginative
scale.
Millions
upon millions
killed.
Killed
for control.
Primitive
beliefs.
Beliefs,
they’ll
find alien
belief systems.
Religion, they’ll
find religions
preaching.
Controlling.
Speaking
of gods,
saviors.
None of which
resonates with
their understanding
of things.
They’ll stay
out of sight,
so alien this
all be.

Back in time.
Staring back
they are.
Wondering
about the
ancients
they do.
Wondering about
those who
came before.
Deep history
exploring.
Digital
archeology,
searching.
Searching
for the
Genesis planet.
Ancestor programs
churned by
quantum simulators
looking.
Looking
for probable
origin
scenarios.
We who
are here,
now.
Lived
long
long
ago!

Global
revolution.
Insidious
connections
circulating
the globe.
Tsunamis.
Technology
tsunamis
wash over.
Washing
over all.
Washing away
what was.
Preprogrammed
narratives.
Controlled
by the
few.
Infecting,
corrupting.
Eviscerating
independents.
Infecting
all.
Infecting
with conformity.
Global mind
programmed
controlled
subjugated.
Technology
mind control.
Obvious.
Tsunamis
already
on the
way.
Already
visible.

Photographs are time machines to the past.
Instant moments in time reflecting back to current eyes.
A street scene of Boston is hung on my wall, a moment sliced
out of time from 1893.

Trolley cars side by side waggling down the street.
Ladies clothed from the sky to the ground bustling around town.
The gents of the day striding along suited with the clicking of their canes.
Horses pulling carriages, delivering produce, moving people here and there while leaving earthy aromatic gifts all around.

Trees in the park that are still there today, leaving shadow memories on the ground.

Each and every person in the scene has a story to tell, they each lived
their lives to the tune of the day.

Each started that day, one day in their lives, they loved, they laughed, they cried and they cheered at the game.
Children in the park running playing just the same.

All gone now, just a moment long past.

Little knowing this moment of their existence would be captured and hung on my wall as a testament to their brief moment in time.

Aliens.
Where are
they?
Here,
all here.
Ever changing.
Ideas, beliefs,
ever changing.
Alien.
All here.
All alien.
Not out
there.
Right here.
Morphing.
Evolving.
Alien.
Unrecognizable.
Looking back,
looking forward.
What
we were
is not what
we are.
What
we are
is not
what we
will be.
Alien.
Beliefs alien
ideas alien.
Morphing
evolving,
becoming.
All alien.
Not out there.
Here.
All the Aliens
here.
Glimmer of
similar.
Yet alien.
Traveling time.
Aliens dotting
time forward
and back.
Similar
but not.
Spacetime
in one place.
Traveling
spacetime
in one place.
All Aliens
reside in
one place.
Alien!

Change is happening rapidly.
It will only seed up!
Humanity’s in the grip of explosive rearrangement.
How we handle it will be interesting to watch.
Some will get involved, attach it to themselves.
Others will pull away not wanting to lose their humanity.
Technology will be ever present, taking over our lives.
There will be no escaping it.
You may move to the country in an an attempt to get away.
To no avail. It will find you and absorb you as with everyone else.
The question is, will it be nirvana or will it be hell?
I guess only time will tell!

Altering.
Pathways
adjusted,
rerouted.
What
was
no more.
Time.
Constant
tinkering.
Circuits
plastic
being
reworded,
re-wired.
Experiences
add up.
Tweaking
perception.
Tools,
evolving
attitudes.
Time.
Takes
time.
Old vs
new.
Gulf of
perception.
Generational
divide.
Reality’s
creation.
Generational
divide.
Years
in the
making.
Smile
at their
all knowing
innocence.

It is a
mirage.
Spun up
in a place
unknown.
Everything
seen an
illusion.
Ghosts,
vapors whiffing
in an out
of existence.
Ghosts
in the
machine.
Infinite
iterations running
simultaneously.
Universe one
of countless
churning to
and end,
an unknowable
end.
Universes
populated.
Populated by
unknowing.
Immersed in
something
beyond
understanding.
Beyond reach.
Vapors, moving
in and out
of illusions.
Forever.
Immortal
they be!

What is time?
Is it something we have?
Was it granted to us from the great beyond?
What do we do with time? I mean, we only have so much of it.
Is time an illusion, something not really there?
Are we an illusion, Just a view in the mirror, nothing more?
Are we just shadows on a cave wall, reflections of a different place?
Are we really we or just an avatar of someone more?

Larger than can be
contemplated.
Older
than can be
grasped.
Encompassing
everything.
Movements
that cannot be
understood.
The machine
controls
all.
What we,
mere specks
call the universe.
The unfathomable,
beyond our
comprehension.
This machine, but
one in an infinite
sea of machines.
How did it
all begin?
What turned it on?
How many
iterations?
What's the point
of it?
Where will it
end?
We, as currently
constituted can
never know.
But,
changes
are afoot.
If we make it
through
what's to come;
we may
finally
come to
know.

Free will
an
illusion.
Free, limited
only.
Programmed
to a path,
course of
actions
predetermined!
Endless choices,
genetically
constrained.
Aggressive
by nature,
or timid be.
Anything
in between.
Choices constrained
by nature.
Niches filled,
genetically so.
Preprogrammed,
following
the
genetic path
to
free will.

Why do we suffer?
What's the point?
People are born with terrible conditions,
live lives of torment and pain.
Die painful horrible deaths.
Why?
Why would a God created such conditions?
To teach us lessons? Seems cruel I think.
Wouldn't there be kinder gentler ways to get the job done?
Couldn't God create a world where happiness, peace and tranquility abound?
Must we suffer to prove something to warrant nirvana?
God made us, why so imperfect then?
What's the point?
Is the game rigged for some others to watch
be entertained ?
Seems cruel don't you think?
What kind of loving god would treat us like this?

We enter the scene but do not hang around, shortly back into the ether we bound.
We are just flesh and bone, in the end just ashes and soot is all that is found.
It’s what we leave behind that may make a difference, that may make a sound.
It is ideas that remain after we are gone, it is ideas that can make the world go around. It’s what we think that matters, that may be profound.
The measure of us is not we existed, but what thoughts and
ideas did we bring and expound. What ideas did we sow and which ones took root? These are the ones that get passed around.
Riches acquired mean nothing in the end, it’s what’s in our minds that ultimately transcends.

Sprites
in the
machine.
Counting
out infinite
realities.
Infinite
possibilities.
Sprites,
existing
cro­ss realms.
Wafting
effortlessly
betwixt
and between.
Sprites
eternal,
pausing
for a
while.
Etching
out time.
Carving
out space.
A place
to occupy
hole up.
Spend time.
Exist for
awhile.
Experiencing.
Once done
dematerializing,
moving on.
Moving on
to once
again
sail the
ethereal
realms
of forever.
Till pausing
once more.
Again and
again.

Teetering.
Humanity
on the
edge.
Pace has
quickened.
Accelerating
change,
overwhelms.
Inundating
the senses.
Power
surges,
crisscrossing
the globe.
Generations
apart like
never
before.
Fractures,
tears
in the
mosaic.
Old ways,
old thinking
fading
away.
Global
presence.
Global
morphing,
unified
t­hought.
Differences
homogenized.
Independence
discouraged.
Nails
­hammered.
Utopia.
Dystopia.
Eyes
of the
beholder.
Humanity
teetering.
Teetering
on the
edge.
The
edge
of never
the
same.

Like pearls

in the

void.

Consciousness

is rare.

Scouring our

Galactic neighborhood

we find none.

Where is everyone?

Have they

moved on?

Evolved

to a

different realm?

Have they

died out?

Are they

still primitive?

Are we

the first?

These questions

repeated

trillions of times

in trillions of galaxies.

For now

at least,

ours

is the only

Cosmic Shire

we know.

Enjoy it while it lasts.

Earth is home for billions of us, we live on one planet, we all call it home.
None of us, however, live in the same world.
The worlds we live in are as varied
as the people that inhabit them.
Some live in heaven others call hell their home, many live in limbo made simply to roam.
No two worlds are exactly the same.
Some are healthy while others in pain.
Some are rich many are poor.
Some live in freedom others detained.
Some are happy while many are sad.
This planet has many worlds, none are the same.
Some are gregarious others simply plain.
Some are geniuse while others insane.
Each one with their own story to tell.
History is replete with such worlds, no two are the same.

Hand
on the wall,
creation
complete.
Mouth
full of
pigment,
sprayed on
the hand.
Artist signature
for the
eons to
observe.
I
was here
the
artist
shouts out.
You don’t
know
who I am,
but,
I
was here!
We
know not
who
the
artist was.
But we
know the
meaning
of the
hand
on the
wall.
The hand
on the
wall.
We
do so
still!