Chapter 91 - The Stillness Before Time (Compendium)


XCI

When will enough be enough?

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Wisdom comes to fools who wonder why deeply.

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The best-kept secrets are one never told.

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Putting one’s life behind them is not for the complex.

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Live in the now with one eye toward the future ones.

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Of what significance is any particular life?

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The tide wears down rocks.
What makes you think
You can fight it?

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Time is the wind which sculpts all.

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Sages may as well shut up
For all the difference it makes.

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What an insidious scourge sexuality can be.

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The things we consider normal.

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God is between the synapses.

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There’s killing to survive,
And then there’s slaughter.

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What becomes of any species
Which has no predators
To set its limits.

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You cannot really change your fate,
Much less another’s.

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Stop remembering and here you are.

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What is common sense, anyway?

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Pain is trying to tell you something.

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As a child you did not suffer
The bondage of identification.
Why be held by so much now?

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How many would have to kill Christ again
If he were to return?

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Who has the true modesty
To see their world is like all the rest?

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Ideas are like throwing feathers in a sandy windstorm.

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Any group that does not invest wisely in its future will not survive.

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Be friend and lover unto your Self.

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Shut up and listen.

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The wise are circumspect.

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The plots become so predictable.

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Bandwagons play for themselves.

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What torment the worry over time becomes.
What is the nature of a carefree mind?

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To spout the popular song is the easy way.

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Do they really know of what they speak?

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How boring exciting can be.

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Sometime a little kindness is in order.

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Another self-deceptive pride-filled set of moments.

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Son of man, daughter of woman,
Children of godness.

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If you can’t play the part,
Find a new play.

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Life is a muddle of confusion
Given order through inane reasoning.

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What a trip all this is.

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You really don’t know
What the fuck’s happening.
You are just completely clueless.

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You can’t laugh when you’re too busy crying.

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The day to day meandering
Dictated these thoughts one by one
As randomly as imagine allowed.

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What’s the point?

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A different world you might have offered your children.

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Be harmless if your imagination allows it.

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This is a set of personal reflections
With a caveat not to adopt them as law.

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The fate of the world will take these words where it will.

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Articulation is such a fascinating passion.

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Isn’t a job well done its own reward?

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More corporate bullpucky.

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Mull over life.
Steep in it like a tea bag.

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One of these days she will not return.

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You’d be a dead man in some parts of this world.

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Not to worry.

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Life pales for so many.

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How attached so many to their suffering,
To all their imagined histories.

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Many seed have been planted.
Who knows to what end.

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Melt into your Self,
Your best friend
And favorite lover.

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How twisted so many become.

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How challenging to free oneself
From the traces of habit.

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Funny how governments, religions and corporations,
Weave their synergistic ego into the teeming masses.

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With some you are hones, with others you are not.
Why?  Why not?

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You’ve seen white, you’ve seen black.
You’ve seen so many colors in between.
Light strums a universe into being.

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Nothing more tiring than self-righteous hypocrisy.

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Feel the tremors as Mother Nature swings into action.

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Life is so full of possibilities.

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How profound so many simple statements.

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Some have a thing about making hoops
For others to jump through again and again.

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Whose pleasure do you live for?

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When something’s due, it gets done.
Do it well.

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When you know you’re right,
Often better to keep it to yourself.

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Does one seek a fate, or fall into it?

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Is there anything we touch
Without some baleful repercussion
Somewhere down the road?

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Only a few go all the way.

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Maybe tomorrow you’ll get to it.

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The harsh, blunt reality in this dream world
Is that most people just don’t know any better.

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Most seem to settle for soda pop in their spiritual questing.

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There is really nothing for which to apologize.

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The organization of religion
Is so often just a numbers scam,
A spoof by ignorance on ignorance.

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If you don’t understand why some get so frustrated
That they just start blowing everything away,
Then you are either a very naive saint,
Or a very self-righteous fool.

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If it’s warm, fuzzy and cute, we take it home.
If not, well, make it food or kill it on principle.

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Amazing how much crapola we weave
Around that which is so pure and simple.

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Irony and paradox wear every mask.

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Out in the quiet of nature,
The noise of the human world
Becomes so irrelevant.

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If the shoe fits, wear it , dearie.

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So little is needed to be content.

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Whoever wins against Rome becomes Rome.

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It is huger than huge,
And smaller than small.

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Your are witnessing the pinnacle
Of the human paradigm.
It will likely not be achievable again.

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Been there, played that.

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No other can heal a cripple.

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A lie was set before you,
And now you feat upon the beast.

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How often they repeat the fables,
Without owning the moral.

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Swine break their teeth upon pearls.

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You can never quite be sure how chemistry will work out.

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Is there any way to ease the mind
But through complete surrender?

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You were born to see this.

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To be truly content with you life,
Now that is good fortune.

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Humanity is due a karmic redistribution.

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Let silence be your voice.

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Why should anyone martyr themselves for another’s vanity?

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Believe it or not,
Fate happens.
Cannot abort it,
Cannot hurry it,
Cannot hinder it.
Cannot do nothing
But witness its passing.

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What endless permutations of delusion
The sexes weave for one another.

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You can tell you are in a relative state
When the whole circus seems
Par for the course.

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It shall all be for as long as it is.
Not a moment more, not a moment less.

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Godness is in the small things.
Godness is in the big things.
Godness is in all things,
As well as the things
Which will never be.
Godness is in the ever you
And the ever me, the faceless one
Unraveling in eternity’s playful odyssey.

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How contorting it is for ignorance
To pretend it is so sure of itself.

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All it took to create this wondrous world,
And we destroy our opportunity
To exist consciously.

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You are a mix of Buddha and Confucius
With your own brand of bullshit.

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How can you predict a mystery?

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The sun also was.

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What an art trivial pursuit is.

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Rules?  In language?

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Street or forest,
Same dream.

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The tortoise can win many a race
Through simple determination.

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They’ve got your numbers.
You can only hide in the open.

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You will be sick.
You will be injured.
You will grow old.
You will die.
Get over it.

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What point to a life without inquiry?

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Peace is the abeyance of all things mortal.

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They who cannot discern
Are further blinded by intemperance
And the many judgments that harbor intolerance.


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