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!

Walking
thru a
hazy mist.
Incomplete
vision of
things I
see. Mere
shadows
of underlying
reality.
Constituted
thus, missing
most of
what is.
Spinning.
Spinning
thru a
make believe.
Living in a
foggy dream.
Looking for
meaning,
understanding
of what
this be.
None seems
evident.
None to
be found.
Spinning!
Like hamsters
in a wheel
spinning
furiously.
Going
nowhere.
Alas,
such is
the state
of things.

Modernity aspires but is built on shaky ground.
Our knowledge so finite, much
built on superstition and ignorance.
The infinite beyond ours to know. Slowly, so slowly our knowledge grows, building on itself expanding faster as time goes on. How much can we hope to know with knowledge being infinite?
How much longer can we follow the word of those who lived so long ago, who knew little more than superstition? Is there comfort in not knowing? Is ignorance truly bliss? Can the human mind as constituted handle the truth, or will it drive us insane? We are the product of our little world, designed just right for the place. It's been said that we can handle the truth. I wonder if that's really so?

I went for a walk at Monson Village today.
A place in the woods where people lived in the 1700's.
Rock foundations were all that was left in each spot. Small signs marked the holes in the ground and describes the inhabitants that lived there so long ago.
But then I realized something more was left behind. Near silence. Breeze rustling the leaves in the trees. Occasionally a bird could be heard in the bushes, the sound of the brook I walked past. This was the world of those who lived three hundred years ago. The scene and sounds flowed through my senses and washed over my mind, flushing out the madness of today. It was stunningly therapeutic for the heart, mind and soul of a twenty first century inhabitant. No noise much at all, no cars, radios, tv, smart phones, computers and internet updating, blasting, vying for our attention our mind and our soul.
Modernity takes over our being, crushing us under its weight of distractions taking away a gentleness Mother Nature nurtured us with.
For us to keep our sanity I think, we need to push back, turn off the machines get back to the times that once were, even if it's just for a sort time in the woods. Let the sounds and views of a world gone by caress you and comfort you, and leave the technology at home!

Staring

at the fire,

crackling.

Dark room

candle flicker.

Soft classical

music.

Christmas tree

lit.

Timeless.

Time has

no meaning.

No meaning

at such a

moment.

Universe

disappears

outside gone.

Only that

scene, that

moment.

Could be

any time.

Could be

any place.

The moment

the same.

Timeless.

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.

See the
Mona Lisa,
now
reverse the
flow.
Her
image
fading away.
In flows
through the
brush then
straight
to the arm,
past neural
pathways,
beaming
back to the
brain.
Chemicals
flow,
electricity sparks.
****, there she
goes
back to
infinity.

Music.
Emanating
music.
In the air,
universal
music.
Vibrating
from who
knows where?
Vibrating from
everywhere.
I’m here
it says.
From
all corners
of creation.
Hear the
music.
Listen hard,
it’s everything.
Creating.
Simply is.
Wafting through.
Celestial,
music.
The
sound of
creation.

How I choose to live my life.
I'm wired at birth, my personality in place.
I'm sculpted as a youth my environment had its say.
The combination of both molded me as artists molds clay.
With all this in place where do I go from here?
What direction in life will I choose?
How much choice do I really have?
Has the deck been stacked before I'm on my way?
Look all around, all types are in play. The complexity of society in full on display.
Can I will myself away from the mold that I am? Am I trapped by the sculptor, my part in the play determined, I have little say.
I believe if I focus real hard, I can fracture the mold get out of its way. I can over come, move in a different direction, and create my own way.
Genetics and environmental certainly had their say.
I believe I can power thru an creat a better day.
Is it possible, though, I'm just wired this way?

The universe above my head massive in size with spinning galaxy’s and exploding stars.
I sit in my little home warm being content.
None of that really bothers me.
I got up to adjust my blinds and see the birds in the bird-feeder.
Beautiful day the sun shining bright.
The sun a raging furnace above my head.
I’m just far enough away that I’m not bothered.
The sun issues cosmic storms sending massive amounts of radiation aim right at my head.
I take a walk in the woods enjoying the day not worried about such things. I know mother Gaia has a force field that pushes that away.
Our little home barely a mote in space, lost in the vastness of the universe made perfect some how.

Hello my name is Joe,
I'm from planet Earth.
I opened my eyes one day and found myself there. Where I was before I do not know. They taught me stuff, made me go to school. To keep alive I found a job then passed on my genes. I'm getting old now and I'm slowing down. Soon I will close my eyes and be moving on. Where I go next I do not know. But I know it will be someplace else,
my dreams told me so.
Perhaps we'll meet again.

Power
and control.
Beware.
The few
controlling
the many.
Narratives,
influencing
controlling
mechanisms.
Spinning up
stories,
influencing
minds.
Controlling
worlds.
Simple
narrati­ves
controlling
millions.
Banners
to follow.
Eyes wide
open.
Mind crystal
clear.
Assess.
Assess the
story.
Humanity.
All human.
Beliefs
different.
Narratives
cleaving,
shaping
population­s;
shaping
creating beliefs,
creating division.
Technology
driven
narratives.
Shooting
crystal bullets
straight
to the
soul.
Grabbing,
shaping
thought.
The few
controlling
the many.
Beware.
Beware
the ultimate
narrative.
Ultimate
control!
Eyes wide
open.
Assess.
Beware.

Where
are they?
All those
who never
were.
All those
never born.
Many reasons.
War.
Millions killed.
Millions more
never
born.
Whole lines
of family
future,
****.
Generation
after
generation,
****.
Never to be.
People you’d
be conversing
with right
now.
Having a coffee,
watching the game,
sharing a beer.
Never happened
never arrived.
Where are they?
People you’d
have differences
with.
Argue with.
Love,
share
time with.
Never born,
never arrived.
Their essence,
never
to be.
Where
are they?
Strange
existence
indeed!

Old ways.
Old ways of
thinking.
Primitive ways.
Thinking
derived out of
fear, ignorance.
Still being
believed.
A new age,
with new
ideas,
new realities,
sweeping it
all away.
All away In
a flash of
enlightenment.
Old generations
replaced by
new generations.
New ideas
replace
the old.
Global mind,
evolves.
Evolves
a new reality.
Unifying thought,
reality.
Fear,
replaced with
wonderment.
New
understandings
shining the
light on the
dark places.
The dark places
of the past.
The primitive
enlightened.
Eyes open,
open in a
new place.
In a flash
the dark ages
replaced by
a new world.
A new world
free, cleansed
of fear.