Chapter 221 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)

CCXXI

It doesn’t always have to make sense.

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There is ultimately no answer the questions
Who, what, where, when, why or how.

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If you are truly attempting to grasp the intention of these words,
You are one of the relatively few at any given time
Chosen, allowed to reside as witness
To eternity’s frolic in time.

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Let the aloneness consume you.

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History, herstory, mystory, yourstory, whosestory?

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The here-now is wherever you are.
Would you be without all the measurement?

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All that is prior colors this moment.
It is not possible to know the unknown.
Reflections of the known project the unknown,
In itself fated never to be more than enigmatic paradox.

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You are the unknown
Remembering a fabrication

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Be a cynical, pessimistic, skeptical, realistic curmudgeon,
Or whatever else you wish, but don’t let it spoil your day.

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What do you recognize in another?
What do they recognize in you?

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How many towers of babble-on hath history wrought?

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We cannot do what we have done to our nest
And believe or hope it will stay the same,
Much less return to something it was.

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Rarely is history taught without alternative purpose.

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What a tiny theater this world is.

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Just another personality faking it.
What an animal you are.

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Laugh once and a while.
You take it all way too serious.

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Dare to tell children the truth.

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You will always be a mystery unto thy Self.

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Don’t expect others to collude
With your self-deceptive delusions.

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For what they are worth, more words.

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Those controlling the necessities
Control the milling crowd.

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Yes means yes, no means no,
And maybe does not mean yes.

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Mountains tremble before the stone cutters.

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Not so outlandish
If you discern that Jesus
Was a misunderstood anti-christ.

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Ah, time, you are just too silly for words.

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Name the faceless however you will,
No word will stand the test of eternity.

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Behind all veils, the immutable soundlessness
Has, does and will ever reign supreme.

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The true legalist discerns the law
Underlying all testaments.

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What a challenge to abide in this ignorance.

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There is a great deal of care in these words,
As well as a great deal of detachment.

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The questions most seem to ask I cannot understand.

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Whatever time is, tomorrow will tell.

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To call this a civilized world is a conceptual paradox.

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We harbor our lives in packaged illusion.

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You may not know it now, but you probably will
Within your capacity if you give it complete attention.

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Your are advised to skip
Or get through adulthood
As quickly as possible.

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We each react and respond
To the mania of time.

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There is really nothing
Keeping you from utter joyful bliss
But you own constraints.

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Fortunately for this scribe,
He didn’t spend too much of his vain life
Worrying about what you think.

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Peruse its nature in whatever way you will.

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An intellectual, emotional dream
Cast for the amusement of god.
Welcome to the Twilight Zone.

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Can you really help
That what once enthralled you
Interests you no longer?

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Don’t look if there’s something
You don’t want to see.

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Who’s the who who question who’s who?

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You inevitably have very little control,
And your sense of power can be very fleeting
In all but the most detached sense.

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Life.
So long, so short.

* * * *
Sitting here waiting for the guillotine to fall.

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On what passion will you focus?

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How do you participate, partially or whole?

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What a blessing to be free of both good and evil.

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Take a big deep breath.
Love thy Self.
Be thy best friend.

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Put all your ambition into being nothing.

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This is god’s therapy.

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Who will think about you
When the scribe is gone?

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Who can hear these words?

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Questions begat answers.
Endless entertainments of an active mind.

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Can you appreciably alter what is genetically ordained?

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Funny how uptight philosophy can make one.

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Ironic that we embrace those things
Which must eventually destroy us.

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The most dangerous revolutionary
Is the one who knows the system.

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You’ll get whitewash till the can runs dry.

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Time whittles all forms into the dusty origin.

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Those who care will do for others
What they would do for themselves.

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Pieces of paper do not a healer make.

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Where will you go?
Right where you’ve always been.

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Truth pervades even the most distinguished delusion.

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What greater than the sweet elixir of godness?

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Demons and saints are tidbits for your amusement.

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An effortless passion of a mind journeying home,
What an unplanned work all these thoughts are.

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All forms, all life rise and fall, come and go
In the ebb and flow of creation and destruction.
The gold is immortal, one, absolute, eternal
Whatever the context of the illusion.

* * * *
All form is dissolving and reforming
In permutations beyond number.

* * * *
Laugh at your fate.

* * * *
Oh the bother of things.

* * * *
Genetic hunger is insatiable.

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Ah, nothing like that nagging societal feeling
That you ought to be doing something.

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Is there anything harder to bear
Than the company of fools?

* * * *
What label doesn’t fit, yet never sticks?

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Played out for your entertainment.

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How great to be in a movie firefight
And never be more than scratched.

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Conspiracy is always a handy explanation.

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Work through it.

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Be cautious about who you show
The defenses to your keep.

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Most secrets are best kept silent.

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Experimentation is the objective observation
Of the way things are, not as you wish them to be.
To be proven credible, any hypothesis must
Stand any given test of any given time.
Even with that, it is all still relative.

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Time rests easy in the folds of eternity.

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A pattern may be altered, perhaps even broken,
If there is the courage, will and discipline
To chart and maintain a new course.

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What difference between the dreams of waking and slumber?

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How small is an atom? How huge a universe?
What difference, really?

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Just because some people can fill airtime
Doesn’t mean they have anything to say.

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Who would want to save the world as it is?

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If you don’t wish to be treated as a stereotype,
Stop behaving as one.

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A little something for everybody.

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Where are you when you peel away concept?

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Despite the envy of appearances,
Life is probably not easy for anyone.

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Nirvana is just way too simple.

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One conspiracy inevitably leads to another.
So many conspire that they are conspired against.

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Give yourself over to a moment of complete abandonment.

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Small talk, large talk.
Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk.
All the same chatter.

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You really have so little to say in any of this.

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Patience is a virtue
Requiring constant attention.

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Wake up or die.

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You are alone,
And that is enough
For any fool.

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How sweet the moments of non-caring.

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Born again and again and again....
In every attentive, attuned moment.

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Vanity is such a trickster.

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You cannot help but see a bigger picture
Once you have first stepped out
Of any given context.

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Meditation is a time-out.

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What can you really hope to gain from all this?
Vanity, vanity, all is ever and again vanity.

* * * *
The wall is racing toward you.
Too late to brake and acceleration
Only adds to the surety of your collision.

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What endurance, what stamina
Is required to complete your time.

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Has you life turned out the way
You expected or even hoped?

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When you go through life
Expecting, hoping, wanting,
You may instead bolt the door
To what it really does offer.

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Prayer is often just self-absorbed whining.

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The surest way to victory
Is taking the wind out
Of the opponent’s sails.

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Terror subjugates those who fear pain and death.

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Why not you?

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Get past the demons.
Do not carry them.
Out of sight, out of mind.


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The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
© Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World Rights Reserved